Melancholia
by LadyArmster
Summary: Joachim was once human. A proud young nobleman, his fall into vampirism came at a high price. However, his unwillingness to accept his fate was more than Walter bargained for. Joachim's rebellion has only just begun. Time will tell who the true master is.
1. Chapter 1: The Young Nobleman

**Author's Note:** Hello, this is **LadyArmster** and I am pleased to bring you the first comprehensive story/novel about **Joachim Armster**, the mysterious vampire nobleman imprisoned inside Walter's castle. Who was Joachim Armster and how did he become a vampire? What was his life like prior to his imprisonment? In time, my story will attempt to answer these questions. If you are eager to read a full-length novel about Joachim or a Castlevania/Lament of Innocence story, I hope you will enjoy _Melancholia_. I plan to add new chapters on a weekly basis. If demand for new chapters increases, I will do my best to add more even sooner. This story is rated M due to sex, graphic violence, and **slash/yaoi **between Joachim and Walter.

I wrote _Melancholia _over five years ago but never published it on this site because it needed a lot of editing and changes. Also, interest in LoI/Castlevania fanfiction seems to have declined over the years. Hopefully, my story will bring greater attention to Joachim Armster, the most fascinating and enigmatic vampire "rebel" in the Castlevania series (besides Alucard of course).

Reviews are always welcome and appreciated. I like to respond to my reviewers as well and take suggestions seriously. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to send me a message. :)

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Joachim or any of Konami's characters. Anything related to Castlevania: Lament of Innocence is copyrighted by Konami except for my original characters. Please do not use/reproduce this story without my permission.

The name of this story, _Melancholia, _is derived in part from Joachim's theme "Melancholy Joachim" and a Joachim fansite titled Melancholia. :)

-Lady Armster-

Since there are a few characters in the story that are "new" (created by me...since Joachim's past/family is unknown) you may find yourself confused at first. Below is a "character guide" to get you started. I promise all the characters that appear (or are mentioned) are listed below. The first half of the story mostly includes new characters, besides Joachim and Walter, while the second half includes familiar characters (Leon, Sara, Mathias, etc.) The first half of this story may "seem" boring but its extremely important character background for Joachim so I hope you will read it and review it. I got all of the Konami character birthdays from the Lament of Innocence limited edition calendar and decided each birthday based on what month each character was featured in. Walter was featured in November, Joachim in September, Mathias in March, and Sara in February.

Significant Characters 

**Lord Joachim Armster**

**Date of birth: September 3****rd**** 1074**

**Astrological sign: Virgo **

Joachim is the main character in this story. As the son of a legendary crusader, he has much to live up to in order to retain his father's name and the honor of the Armster family. Joachim is albino and suffers from an illness that made him bedridden for most of his life. Thus, he faces constant ridicule and criticisms, and often seeks companionship with his horse or solitude at his manor home.

**Lord Zaeviean Armster**

**Date of birth: December 9th 1054**

**Date of death: August 29****th**** 1094**

**Astrological sign: Sagittarius**

Father of Joachim Armster, an astute figure who was legendary for his battling abilities in the crusades. It seemed all he left Joachim were memories of an unloving father and a lonely childhood.

**Lady Arabella Armster**

**Date of birth: July 19****th**** 1058**

**Date of death: September 3rd ****1074**

**Astrological sign: Cancer**

Joachim's mother. When her newborn soon took his first breath she took her last. Joachim knows very little about his mother, though she is often remembered as a kind, soft spoken woman, whose beauty was loved by all.

**Catherine Corydon**

**Date of birth: April 4****th**** 1076**

**Astrological sign: Aries **

A spirited young lady who dreams of a carefree life. Many in the village of Creightel admire her for her beauty. Catherine is Joachim's beloved childhood friend.

**Lord Walter Bernhard**

**Date of birth: November 18****th**** ? (year unknown)**

**Astrological sign: Scorpio**

Walter is the cunning and seductive lord of the forest of Eternal Night. Physically, he appears to be in his mid to late 30's. Many in Creightel find Walter fascinating; however he often hides alternative motives to his actions and words, and has a particular attraction to Joachim Armster. He can be ruthless and sadistic, merciless but kind on a whim, and hides a past that linked him with Zaeviean Armster.

**Lady Sara Trantoul**

**Date of birth: February 21****st**** 1076**

**Astrological sign: Pisces**

A beautiful young lady and Leon Belmont's kidnapped betrothed. She is the daughter of a wealthy aristocratic landowner. She is adored and loved by all for her kind nature and beauty. Sara's presence in Eternal Night proves to be more significant than Walter bargained for.

**Lord Mathias Cronqvist**

**Date of birth: March 16th**** 1062**

**Astrological sign: Pisces**

A genius tactician closely associated with Leon Belmont. A year before the events of this story his wife, Elisabetha, died while he was at the crusades with Leon in the east. Since then Mathias returned home and became bedridden out of grief over her death. Evidently too unstable to go back to the warfront, Mathias has other plans in store for himself in the meantime. Elisabetha's death left him very detached and depressed, but for some reason he seeks out the vampire Walter Bernhard.

**Baron Leon Belmont**

**Date of birth: August 12****th**** 1072**

**Astrological sign: Leo **

Leon Belmont is a young, honest, and courageous man who fears nothing. He has a close friendship with Mathias. Leon's skill in battle and Mathias' genius tactician abilities made their company of knights undefeated. Even after Mathias became bedridden, Leon continued to maintain their company and kept it victorious, while still trying to carry on his close comradeship with Mathias. Monsters suddenly began attacking his estate in Italy, which urged him to seek Mathias' advice and journey to Romania in search of his kidnapped betrothed. In order to do so however, he was forced to renounce his title as Baron, due to the fact the church was against any 'unauthorized' battles.

Minor Characters

**Maurizio Dellamaria: **Maurizio is the energetic but irresponsible young knight assigned to protect the Armster manor. Maurizio came from Italy and dreams of becoming a great knight. Due to the fact that Creightel is a small, peaceful village, his activities mostly involve drinking and courting women.

**Jezebel Caelan: **The daughter of a Lord in Dalwood who made several bad investments and became indebted to the Armster family. Jezebel attempts to regain her family's title and wealth by becoming a suitor for Joachim.

**Emmaline: **A friend of Jezebel whom also tries to win Joachim's attentions.

**Kyran:** Joachim's Vassal, and who also served Lord Zaeviean Armster for many years. Kyran assists Joachim in managing the crops and the serfs, as well as in sending any able-bodied knights protecting the Armster estate to the crusades.

**Anneliese****: **Joachim's nursemaid until he turned ten years of age. She was kind and gentle, and during his early life Joachim considered her to be the mother he never had.

**Father Genesio:** A local priest residing in Creightel whose religious views often conflict with Joachim's.

**Luciano Corydon: **Catherine's father. A gypsy horse trader who settled in Creightel after being hired by Lord Zaeviean to help protect the village. He is very protective and dislikes his daughter's friendship with Joachim.

**Other Notes**

None of the towns in my story (Creightel, Dalwood, Brendelham) actually existed. I made the names up to be more creative, just like some of the characters featured never existed in the game. Nothing was stated about where Joachim came from. Judging by his last name, I would say his family is most likely from either Germany or England, and both options I leave the reader to decide.

**~* Melancholia *~**

**Chapter I**

The September moon rose above the deserted streets, bathing every object beneath it within a pale ivory light. Joachim marveled at the glorious mystery of the night. A slight smile creased his dry lips, and without any hesitation he made his way to the building at the end of the street. Though young, his steps were slow and methodical, and his expression became somewhat strained. He had always found it difficult to cope with the cold weather – it made his joints ache and walking more difficult than usual.

The long indigo colored tailcoat of his robes fluttered behind him as he went. If one saw him, they would immediately guess that he was affluent. Covering his chest was an ornately designed piece of armor that matched his boots. The silver lining his armored chest and boots shimmered under the moonlight. The houses surrounding the street in which he walked were small and modest, complete with thatched rooftops and smoke drifting into the black night sky through their open chimneys.

The silence was quickly disturbed by a voice calling to him. The young man's thin frame stiffened as he paused and turned in response. The tails of his robe brushed against his legs, revealing his pearly white britches and knee length boots. His unusually fair complexion and shoulder-length ivory hair were the only features that revealed his presence. "Joachim! Have you ever heard of waiting, you said you would not leave until I was ready!" Hurrying toward him down the street was the young woman, wearing an amethyst colored dress. His pale silver eyes became alit when they fell upon her. "I had waited for you, and if you did not take so long I would have stayed. Thanks to you, I am now late."

"I apologize! My father wished to speak with me before I left. You know how he feels about the aristocracy…"

Although he wished to continue on his way, he waited until she was by his side. A soft huff escaped through his parted lips, though his initial displease was quickly replaced by a soft smile. "I waited for you for twenty minutes. If you can't be ready during that time, I have no reason to remain in wait when I have my own obligations to attend to."

She scowled at him in disapproval; her jaded eyes piercing into his as the thick ringlets of her raven hair fell around her slightly flushed cheeks. "Oh very well, I suppose I cannot blame you for leaving. After all, tonight is the celebration of your twentieth birthday. To think, after all these years…"

"I would rather not." Joachim closed his eyes momentarily, ignoring her somewhat as he neared the building. "I understand what this time means. It means I have inherited my father's estate and title as lord…" His eyes opened again and drifted upward to the pale moon. The night was calm and quiet. It was the first time he had left the manor in almost two weeks. The fresh air refreshed him greatly, allowing him to feel a moment of freedom after illness had confined him to his bed. Indeed, he was looking forward to the event that evening despite the air of indifference he seemed to exhibit in her presence. In the moonlight, the young man appeared wan and tired, though within his gaze was a surprising liveliness. It was hard to believe he was twenty years old. God - or perhaps fortune - had smiled upon him. It was true that many did not live long enough to reach their early teens. Nevertheless, he was grateful for the fact that he would not have to celebrate such a milestone alone. Catherine's presence inspired him to recover and grow strong once again, like a wilted flower given water and rejuvinated by her tender care.

Catherine was different from most women he knew and for that he was thankful. She was a petite, cheerful thing with bright green eyes and hair as black as a raven's wing, always set in neat ringlets. The young woman's hair was thick and glossy, giving her a kind of graceful beauty that became more apparent with age. For a long as he could remember they had been close companions. It was, however, a rather unusual friendship. Men of his 'reputation' clung to the unspoken rule about class and priviledge. To him, such a rule made no difference. He had spent most of his life in his bed rather than out of it, thus, his ways did not necessarily coincide with his fellow aristocrats. What did they know of suffering? He would often ask himself whenever doubt about his choice surfaced. Surely, if they knew her as well as he, they might be less judgemental. Perhaps it was only fanciful thinking but it did not matter to him. That is not to say that such a friendship had been difficult at times. Indeed, when his father was alive, there were times when he doubted it's plausibility...

"Oh come now, you are a fortunate young man in some ways." Catherine attempted to reassure him. She smiled, her eyes glittering in the darkness. To the young man, such eyes were more enchanting than the brightest stars in the sky. Not even Orion, Cassiopia, nor even the North Star itself could rival the beauty of her eyes. However, he gave her not the slightest indication that he was thinking such a notion, for his face remained serious and composed. Despite such jovial thoughts, he had every reason to restrain his enthusiasm. His twentieth birthday was a somewhat hollow celebration in many ways. He was still trying to comprehend the fact that he was the only Armster left. The huge manor in which he lived became increasingly desolate and empty, especially when thoughts about his father crossed his mind, creating a mix of hate and sadness within his tired soul. Time was slipping away from him - he had not the chance to truly know his father. Whenever he was ill his father rarely visited him. Of course, he understood that the man came and went from the East where he proudly preserved the honor of the Armster name by fighting heretics and heathens. Everything in God's name, for the sake of the Pope in Rome, for the sake of all good Christians - such "noble" ideas were still unconvincing to him. Although he was grateful that God had allowed him to live for twenty years, a siege of resentment sometimes consumed him whenever feelings of despair reminded him that God had taken his father away. Not just in death but life as well. Lord Armster had been away from home more often than not. As his son lay in bed, struggling to live, Lord Armster was fighting in a desolate, far off region of the world that not even he, in all his vain attempts, could imagine without shuddering.

Not everyone has the wealth you possess, or the status of your family name. Enjoy the small celebration your friends have prepared for you." He arrived before the heavy doors of the building, and with a hand he grasped the doorknob and turned to her once again.

"Yes…perhaps I will. After all, I need a little cheering up." His face brightened from her smile, which was so genuine that he could not help but smile in return. It sometimes surprised him that he still knew how to smile.

Joachim had not invited any guests to Armster Manor since his father's death. Such a personal tragedy had happened too soon before his birthday, so he could not find within himself the heart to celebrate it there. Fortunately, the little village had a rather large, communal building, where local dances and festivities were often held. The people of Creightel were extremely sociable and closely-knit. Indeed, superstitions and local legends had made the people come together and work co-operatively. September was an especially busy month due to the approaching harvest and the tension over preparing for Winter, one of the harshest and most unforgiving times of the year. Joachim remembered that in one winter alone, nearly a quarter of the entire village died from illness. It was not uncommon to hear of such things but high death tolls could be devastating to a Lord, who relied upon local taxes and successful crops. Fortunately, the mild September weather promised the possibility of a milder winter that year and a bountiful harvest. Joachim was not sure if he could survive another cold winter like last year's. Winter, for him, meant a constant struggle between life and death. In fact, in the winter of his tenth year, he had not set a single foot outside the manor. His father had forbidden him from leaving his room, thus all he could do was sit inside and play with Catherine when she visited him. However, despite being locked inside for most of his life, he managed to acquire some contacts outside of Creightel who would be attending the party that evening. Joachim approached the large building ahead, which was made out of stone and had a thatched rooftop. Two great wooden doors greeted him when he walked up a small flight of stone stairs with Catherine by his side. The young woman held onto his arm as he ascended them, helping him keep his balance when a sudden, though unsurprising, jolt of dizziness made him pause to catch his breath. Once he was sure he had regained his steadiness, the young man grasped the handle of the doors and pulled them open.

He stepped through the doorway and into a large room with an open area covered by a crimson red carpet. At the back of the space in the wall was a large fireplace that cast a dull orange light across the room. Lining the walls were candlestick holders, and all about the room were people mingling with one another. The moment he stepped inside, the groups of people turned to him and he was immediately bombarded the second his pale form appeared.

"Joachim!" He stopped abruptly and gazed at the people with a fixated gaze, though it was not until a particular young man stepped out from the crowd of people that he fully understood the light atmosphere filling the room. "At last you've come! We weren't sure if you were going to show up to such a small gathering, come in and have some wine!" The man who spoke was his age, and his face was smooth and his auburn eyes twinkled with reverence. Joachim glanced at their smiling faces as he hobbled toward a long wooden table in the middle of the room.

"Whatever is this for Maurizio? It is merely my birthday, I did not expect this from you."

Maurizio poured him a glass of wine, giving the young lord a cheeky smile. "It's the least I can do, especially for one who is going to be a lord!" Joachim continued to look at him with a fixated gaze, and politely took the glass and pressed it to his lips. The sweet yet tart taste of the red wine slid down his throat, and after he carefully placed it on the table the other people in the room gathered to their seats.

"I see, very well then. How many have you invited to this gathering?" His eyes trailed to his friend, though Maurizio quickly consumed his attention with the wine. Without so much as a thought the young man poured himself a glass and sat back in his chair.

"Lots of other lords decided to come, and Vassal Kyran told me to tell you he will be late for our gathering this evening."

"Why I am I not surprised to hear that? It must be because of the harvest this year; he has been saying his crops are the finest in the region. I look forward to seeing such grains when my servants make them into bread."

Joachim leaned back in his chair, still holding the wine as he thoughtfully drummed his fingers on the table. Maurizio was swift to answer his statement, as the fellow young man drained his glass and reached for the wine to pour another. "So it seems." He began earnestly, glancing about at the other people mingling in the room.

"Your awful quiet this evening, what being your birthday and all. I will have to ensure by the end of tonight you are so intoxicated all your troubles melt away! That is how many deal with such trifles, for what good can come out of life without a spot of wine to make hideous women appear beautiful, and lowly knights like me become true kings!"

The man gave him a wide grin and chuckled, however Joachim felt no such expression wash over his face, and he instead set the wine down and brushed away a strand of his hair. "You dream too much my friend." He muttered back, and set his elbow on the table to rest his chin in his hand. "Wine merely dilutes reality. If all one does is drink and be merry, then he is fooling himself and driving his issues into deeper turmoil."

"I was joking! Have you no sense of humor tonight as well? I hope by the time Kyran arrives you will have changed your mood." Joachim rolled his eyes and looked away from Maurizio's expectant gaze, as his eyes began to wander over people conversing casually and those of higher status holding their wine in fine crystal glasses. It was not difficult to tell who was of higher class because those who were wealthier wore finer garments and were better kept then those of the peasant class. Joachim scarcely could see a reason for such a system even though he kept it to himself, since people were still people regardless of a title.

"I shall only stay for a little while. I'm weary tonight, and all I really seek is time in solitude." His eyes drooped slightly when he spoke, and the evident mechanical tone of his voice only caused his friend to incite further.

"You cannot hide behind that mask of displeasure!" Maurizio swiftly added in. "Especially because many have come from other towns and traveled to attend. Think of it this way as well, you need the company after what occurred in these recent months…"

"I will decide that." His eyes narrowed and momentarily glanced at his friend's direction, where he caught Maurizio sigh before their eyes locked and the young man shrugged when he resumed his observations. "Though you are correct, it would be terribly rude of me not to acknowledge my guests." He batted his eyelids slowly and straightened in his chair.

"Of course I am correct!" Maurizio gloated with the same grin resuming to flash across his lips. "You wouldn't want your lordship to already begin in a bad manner. After all, many who are not from out village are skeptical of you yet, and you are expected to make proud your father's name." Joachim felt his entire body freeze from such words, and all at once he shoved back his chair and darted to his feet.

"I will hear no more of this. Let me be, and I will try to make this evening a little more enjoyable." With a last glance he turned awkwardly toward the groups of milling guests, who instantly gave him the impression all eyes were watching his every move. With slow yet confident strides, he moved to walk but was bombarded once again when Maurizio wrapped an arm around his back and pushed him playfully.

"Come now everyone! Without further ado, we must wish our grand new lord a happy birthday!"

"Maurizio…" Joachim pursed his lips and glanced at him, but the young man already raised his glass and the others soon joined.

"Here stands a promising new lord that shall make our village prosper! I propose we toast to Lord Joachim, the only surviving generation of the Armster clan! Here, here!" Almost instantly men and women alike raised their glasses and smiled at him, and Joachim forced a smile in return when the groups of people cheered and threw back their heads to down a sip of their drinks. Upon finishing, Maurizio darted away into the crowd, as Joachim remained rigid in place until the dark haired man returned guiding a tall man and woman behind him.

"Joachim – or should I address you as _milord _– have you met the lord Caelan of Dalwood? He has come so far to make acquaintances with you!" Joachim

stiffened when his eyes locked with the fellow lord, who politely extended his hand in greeting. "Ah, so you are the son of Lord Zaeviean. I have not laid eyes upon you till now, it is my pleasure."

Joachim stared down at the man's hand, but refused to hesitate and shook it, feeling the firm grasp the other lord had. He was not the least surprised to see the man was donned in the finest robes and accompanied by a beautiful woman with thick curly red hair and glittering eyes. Despite her beauty, she was plainly dressed.

"You, servant! Fetch me a drink now and do not take so long! I have run out of patience for you, and it shall not hesitate to flog you if you displease me again!" The lord's voice hardened and he nearly shoved the woman away from his side, who only wordlessly nodded and hurried off to do as he bid.

"The pleasure is all mine." Joachim answered coolly, as his eyes diverted to the pained expression the woman wore while she poured another glass at the table nearest to them. His gaze was forced back to the fellow lord when the man continued.

"Ah, you are not exactly what I expected. You father rarely mentioned you, though he once told me you are very skilled in sword mastery. Tis' a pity that talent must go to waste is it not?" A frown crept its way over Joachim's lip but he covered it and swiped the glass from Maurizio's grasp.

"I hardly think so." He commented, his voice quivering slightly while his hand wrapped around the crystal glass and tightened. "My father occasionally failed to seek matters beyond the surface. I find that more prevalent these past years, for many lords have become alike in that aspect."

"That drink was mine! If you wish to have some, simply ask." Maurizio gave him a sharp but glinting glance, and quickly swept away to retrieve another glass. Joachim watched the other lord's eyes follow his friend until he disappeared again into the clusters of people, before the lord leaned forward and inquired.

"Who is that rude young fellow? Why must a lord tolerate such insolence? Is he a servant of yours? If he were under my command, I would ensure that he understood his place."

The lord continued to glare where Maurizio disappeared, but he merely waved it away and replied. "That whom you call a 'servant' is my friend." Joachim's voice fell into a dull whisper, as his lips articulated every word to complete the statement. "Maurizio is a respected knight and a great warrior for our king, so you are to address him as Sir for that is a title he risked his life to earn."

"I see, well for being one of our king's great knights he lacks manners. Why is he not accompanying his fellow knights in the east? Although we shall surly win, his presence here is of little value." The lord raised his head high and stared over the people as the young man began to wind his way back toward them carrying two fresh glasses of wine in his hands.

"Maurizio has earned his place at home." Joachim remarked and grasped the glass even tighter upon noticing the other lord's speculation. "He had gone East and fought to proclaim the grace of God, however the injuries he sustained forced him to return home. If you have a problem with that, feel free to voice it when he is in our presence." The other lord's lips firmed and Joachim could not help but relish in the strained response his words received.

"Tis' little discrepancy to me. A knight is still a knight, and lower than a lord like you and I. Just as are these peasants you invited to this dining, for they feast like dogs and have manners much the same as dogs-"

"I will hear no more of this." He glared at the lord when the man moved his lips in an attempt to persist. "It is my celebration, and I will invite whomever I choose. If you are daring to insult my guests, you have no place here." Joachim raised his head in an attempt to stare at him at eye-level, but his thoughts quickly diverted when Maurizio tapped him on the shoulder.

"Here, you best drink this, the glass is a lot more full than the one you carry." The smile presented to him made him exchange glasses, though he swiftly swiped the other one Maurizio carried as well. "Pardon me-" his friend began again, however he smiled in return and made a bow to the fellow lord. "I must take my leave of you now Lord Caelan. Do enjoy this evening if it suits you, unless you wish to inform _Sir_ Maurizio of what you so graciously told me?" he locked eyes with the lord and he ushered to his friend, all the while allowing a strange silence to enter the conversation. For a moment the lord remained speechless, but with a swish of his robe he took a few steps away when the red haired woman returned and handed him a glass.

"I congratulate you, Lord Armster. Your father did not believe you would survive past your tenth birthday, let alone twentieth. A true lord learns the place of his subjects. Perhaps in time you will come to understand what I mean."

"Perhaps in time you will also come to understand the meaning of respect? I certainly hope so." Joachim's lips formed a scowl.

"Watch your tone, Lord Armster." The other warned, nearly crushing the wine glass in his trembling fist. "I have a great many friends in the Vatican who would love to persecute you for your rather…unusual appearance. Some would say you are ill because you are possessed. Your white hair and skin is strangely beyond explanation."

Joachim felt his face growing hot while he glared at the other lord with mutual repugnance. He ran a hand through the soft locks of his ashen hair, taking a moment to glance at his pale skin that frightened most his father's servants. It was not unusual for his servants to avoid him because they feared falling victim to the 'white devil' – a reference they spoke only during his absence. Despite his unmoved response to the other lord's warning, accusations of witchcraft were an ever-growing occurrence. If he was too careless he could find himself among the accused despite his father's reputable name. Between gritted enamels, a hiss erupted through the young man's throat.

"Go ahead and have the Vatican persecute me. Lest we forget, though, that you owe a great deal of capital to my father? I may be an invalid, however, being ill has endowed me with time to manage my father's finances. It seems you have acquired a great deal of debt to my family, Lord Caelan…perhaps I should have my knights pay a visit to collect it from you?"

The other lord's eyes became as wide as saucers. "D-d-do forgive me," he stuttered, nearly choking on his wine upon witnessing a knowing smirk flash across the young man's lips. Despite his regal attire, the man could barely contain himself, his hands trembling to the point that he dropped his glass on the floor and shattered it. "T-t-that would not be necessary, Lord Armster…"

Without waiting for a reply, he bowed his head, accidently allowing the wig covering it to fall off. "There is no need for our conversation to become unpleasant!" He added, before snatching the wig off the floor. "Perhaps I have been unfairly judgmental. You have my sincere apologies. If there is anything I can do to be of service to you, do not hesitate. I have a daughter whom I am certain you know of, Jezebel? I could arrange for a marriage between the two of you…if that would perhaps, reduce my debt. I assure you, she comes from good stock…her mother was the duchess of Bath-"

"I am not interested in such an agreement," Joachim waved the man away, his voice accusing. "Have you no respect for your own daughter? You would dare use her as collateral in order to eliminate your financial debt? Such dishonor is unacceptable. I expect you to make payments to me every month until your debt is cleared. Is that understood?"

The other lord made no indication of a reply except to nod and slink away into the crowd. Joachim folded his arms across his chest, his cold blue eyes following the man until he was out of sight. He had narrowly escaped the possibility of being put on trial for sorcery. After ending their argument, he was in no mood to celebrate. Yet, when he turned to escape the prying eyes of curious onlookers, he gasped when he found himself looking into Catherine's bright green eyes.

"Hello, Joachim," She said cheerfully. "It seems we have not had a chance to talk all evening. Would you care to join me for a glass of wine by the fire? I miss your company, for I do not know any of the guests you invited."

Joachim nodded anxiously, his face brightening the second he laid eyes upon her. "Catherine, it would be my pleasure. I have been eager to talk to you as of late."

"I see you have already gotten yourself into an argument." She said, looking up at him with unease. "Please, do not exert yourself. If my company pleases you, I am glad."

Locks of Catherine's thick ebony ringlets fell around her shoulders and down her back as she bowed her head. Her tender and subdued manner made a warm smile spread across his lips. He was unsurprised by her response, for it was her selflessness that he admired most about her. She was, indeed, different than the other women he knew. All they wished to speak to him about was his title, land, family history, and future goals. To him, they seemed empty of life and happiness, like a cracked vase unable to hold water. More often than not, he tired of them quickly. Perhaps, somewhere within himself, he knew that they found him appealing only because it was well-known that his life would be short. He had recently inherited his father's estate and family fortune. To be able to acquire such noble lines and financial security would be perfect for such women. Not only that, but they would not be burdened by him for long. His death would mark the beginning of their freedom to remarry and spend everything his family had worked to attain. Catherine was the only woman he could trust. She knew him better than anyone and had befriended him since childhood. Though she had not a penny to her name, she had earned more than his entire fortune could repay through her kindness toward him. He could hardly imagine any of the other women he saw that night emptying his bed pan, lifting him up to feed him, reading to him in the middle of the night, or telling him gypsy legends when he was so feverish he could barely say a word to express his gratitude. And yet, they labeled her a "vagabond", "heathen", and "tramp", simply because she was not of the same noble birthright. Gypsies were common throughout Transylvania and Romania. During the daylight hours, and only while Catherine was absent, he would sometimes read about her ancestors and wonder how different his life would be if he had been born among them. He could have travelled anywhere, learned a trade, bred horses, or even gone on an adventure. The life of a gypsy seemed so much realer than his. Days spent languishing inside a large, empty manor, with only indifferent servants, fickle associates, and a tyrannical father as company. The life of an aristocrat was, for him, lonely. It seemed his family's bloodlines had become as stagnant as a millpond. When he looked at her, he imagined only new possibilities and the joy of living without limitations set by an arrogant, self-righteous "nobility."

"You need not worry, milady." He reassured. "I shall be along in a moment. Have a glass of wine in the meantime." His trembling hand nearly spilled the wine when he handed his glass to her. When he caught her looking at him in worry, he added quickly. "It's nothing, Catherine."

"Very well." She replied in spite of her doubtful gaze. "I will wait for you by the fireplace." As she bowed again, he caught her eyes lift and look up at him. The gesture made him catch his breath – yet, the words he wished to speak would not leave his lips. Before he could consider asking her to remain by his side, she had already walked toward the other side of the room, her long amethyst dress sweeping with her steps as she went.

"Hasn't she grown into a lovely creature? To think when we were children we never used to notice the beauty of women." Maurizio stared after her and purposely raised his head to get a longer glance, until Joachim pulled him back and turned his back upon her, his face flushing a shade of crimson.

Despite his attempt to be discreet, Maurizio was persistent. "You should ask her to dance this evening! The musicians have arrived and are waiting to begin."

"I don't feel like dancing right now." Joachim muttered while wringing his hands. "Besides, a lord should be attending to his guests instead of his guests attending to him."

"Oh come now!" Maurizio added convincingly. "She awaits you, so you should go to her! After all, she is one of your guests and if you have responsibility for them like you say then you should pay respect to a lady's request. If you refuse again then I will simply drag you over there and tell her myself-"

"You will do no such thing! Have you forgotten that dancing exhausts me? The doctor that visited yesterday insisted I rest. I should not even be here to begin with. Nevertheless, I understand everyone's surprise at seeing me turn twenty. Indeed, it is hard to fathom why I am still alive." A frown creased the corner of his lips, his pale blue eyes hardening at the morbid thought.

Maurizio gave him a sharp look. "Must you always be so depressing? I doubt she will be a problem to you, for if you can handle women as well as your sword this should be rather easy."

Joachim shoved him playfully before returning his attention to his guests. The other lords and ladies nodded at him politely or offered him words of congratulations. It seemed no one had expected him to attend his own party. The fact that he had been bedridden during the previous two weeks was reason enough for them to doubt how long his health would last. "You rely too much on assumptions, Maurizio. Catherine and I are merely acquaintances. She is, after all, a commoner. My father did not approve of her when we played together as children."Joachim's gaze drifted through the crowd, searching for Catherine among his guests.

"What's the matter? Is Lord Joachim _scared_? Are you afraid that even with your lordly title you cannot have her?" Another chuckle parted from his lips, however the young lord returned it with a seething glare.

"I will go and see her but only out of courtesy. I think you have become confused about the difference between those two subjects."

"I think not my friend," The knight continued. "After all, I think _you_ are confused about what you will say to her. Young love becomes deep affection in time's river, and I think you have just taken the plunge-"

"Stop using such stupid metaphors! I have had enough of this nonsense, you seem to have had one too many glasses of wine."

Joachim listened for Catherine's voice among the many clusters of conversation. Within moments he was bombarded and surrounded by a group of men and women, all of which seemed to speak at once. "Joachim!" A young maiden called to him, her eyes falling upon him intensely. He turned, only to look upon a woman with dark eyes and neatly braided caramel colored hair. "It's about time you came to converse with us! I brought some of my pies as appetizers, but Christiana insisted on bringing a roast as well!" He forced a smile, recognizing her as Lord Caelan's daughter. "Thank you, Lady Jezebel. I shall be back momentarily, I have to speak with someone-"

"Must you always leave so quickly? Stay with us and at least tell us what plans you have concerning the obligations of your entitlement!"

"Everyone please, I will be back soon enough. I thank you all for attending this event. I cannot say what I plan to do as lord just yet, so I will have to see what happens until then." He overlooked their smiling faces to the fireplace beyond, and what still seemed to be out of his reach and farther than in actuality. With steps growing in pace he walked through the crowd. He hurried as fast as he could without trying to be rude.

After a few moments, he at last saw Catherine standing in front of the blazing fireplace. Cupped in one of her porcelain-like hands was a glass of red wine. The moment he appeared she smiled.

"I apologize for taking so long." Joachim began, his lips nearly trembling as he spoke. "What is it you wanted speak with me about?" he walked toward her with slow careful steps while feeling his cheeks growing hot.

"Joachim, are you well? You appear to be quite flushed." She blinked several times when he stood next to her in front of the fire. Before he could object she reached out and placed a hand upon his face.

"I-I am quite well tonight." He began, hoping she had not noticed that his face was warm. "You worry too much, Catherine. I am not as ill as I was as a child."

"Don't try to fool me with that brave front of yours." She answered, her emerald eyes blinking at him with suspicion. "I know you don't wish to tell me when you are feeling ill."

"I am fine, I assure you. My illness has improved these past few days. A doctor even visited yesterday and said that his latest medicine is even more effective than the last. I am eager to try and it. At least medicine is a better alternative to blood letting…"

Joachim noticed that she had fallen silent and gave him only a sympathetic look in reply. Indeed, she knew as well as he that twenty years had passed and his illness had never been cured. If he did not try to put up a brave front, he feared she would continue to worry and dote on him. In attempt to look unbothered by her uncertainty, he looked at the fire's golden embers. No matter how hard he concentrated on the fire, his eyes were always drawn to her. After a moment of silence, Catherine sighed while taking his arm. "When you were gravely ill last week, I had a gypsy healer go to your chamber and bless you while you slept. The healer even added some of her remedies to the soup you had for dinner that evening. I think you should rest more – I do not wish to see you push yourself like this. It will only make you ill again."

He felt her hands tighten around his arm, which prompted him to reply dismissively. "I am tired of resting. It did little for me when I was a child, and it still does now. If there is a chance that the doctor's medicine will work, I am willing to try it again no matter what the cost."

"Why? All that 'medicine' does is make you hopeful – and when it fails to work, your condition worsens. Your father tried everything to cure you. Don't you remember five years ago when your condition nearly took your life? Your father had doctors come from across Europe to see you. None of those so-called experts could find a cure. The only thing they did was blood letting-"

"Ah, so you remembered…" He gave her a sullen look, his lips curling. "Too much _black bile_ - they said it makes me melancholic. I still have the scars on my arms…"

She rested her head on his shoulder, soothing the tension flowing through him. "I did not mean to offend you. Let's change the subject. This is your evening to enjoy. I cannot help but wonder what kind of feast we shall have!" Joachim forced a smile, his eyes diverting between the fire and Catherine but he could not ignore her feelings. With a bitter sigh, he closed his eyes and whispered. "Catherine…you are right. I am foolish to think that medicine will have any effect. I feel as if I tried everything in existence, only to no avail."

Indeed, she had every right to worry about him for she had spent a great deal of time at his manor nursing him back to health. He remembered long hours spent in bed, the light of the sun shielded by thick drapes to keep the room dark. During most of his ill bouts, Catherine never left his bedside for a moment. When he was too ill to even raise his head to eat, she spoon-fed him herself. Without her, he was certain he would have had no motivation to live. Unlike many women from her class, Catherine was a rarity – he had secretly taught her to read when they were children and so she often spent the day sitting at his bedside reading to him.

"Oh, Joachim…I have no right to judge, for I do not know what it is like. If you are feeling well this evening, why stop yourself from experiencing a bit of pleasure? The fact you are here is enough for me."

At last her words made the smile he longed for appear on his lips. He turned his head and looked at her face, watching the way she seemed to reassure him. "Nothing will keep me from you." Without expecting it, his hand brushed against hers. The woman's flesh was so soft and warm that he paused a moment, avoiding her gaze, whilst resting his hand there. Since they kept their hands at their side, the other guests paid them no attention. It had been a long time since he felt truly as happy as he did now. Yet, when he dared to look at her again, her eyes looked dim and sad. Upon meeting his gaze, her hand slipped discreetly away from his. Joachim struggled over what to do until he forced his voice to lighten, pretending as though he failed to notice. "As long as you do not eat all the cake then I think things will go well."

"Why, you scoundrel! I am not a glutton!"

Joachim chuckled softly, but it faded under the sound of instruments that filled the room. He watched her turn and stare as people grouped and began to dance to the music. "I wonder where Kyran is? I thought he was going to attend?" She asked while her eyes scanned the large room. "Look at all of them dancing so gracefully! I haven't danced in ages, not since the party in Dalwood. Tis' such a shame that our village is so small events like these are rare."

The sight of her watching the dancers provoked the question inside him, but when he failed to respond she whirled in place. "Joachim! Are you daydreaming? How can you do that at your own party when so much is going on?" A wide grin flashed across her face then, her throat letting out a shy laugh when his eyes widened with surprise. Words failed him whenever she stared at him like that "I was not daydreaming! I was merely wondering what became of Kyran since you brought it up. Perhaps the harvest will keep him away tonight – he is preparing for a large crop this season, after all."

"Perhaps, or perhaps he decided not to attend. Such behavior is typical of him – I know he does not approve of allowing commoners to attend your events."

Strands of his pearly white hair cascaded against his cheeks as he lowered his head thoughtfully. "Catherine…" he began, forcing sound to escape his throat. The sight of his guests dancing together made his heart flutter inside his chest. He could not remember the last time he danced even if he tried. Despite attending his father's parties, he was often too ill to participate and merely observed from a distance. The longing to get nearer to her overcame his fears. "It would be a pleasure if you and I could-" However, before he could finish his request, a familiar voice interrupted their conversation.

"Lord Armster, how pleasant it is to see you again." Joachim gasped in surprise upon seeing Jezebel approaching him, her hands lifting the skirt of her long, golden dress. "You look a lot healthier tonight," She added, allowing a coy little grin to spread across her painted ruby lips. He felt her eyes searching him intently, perhaps even evaluating him as he stood motionless and unsure of what to say. "Forgive me for being a bit blunt, but why are you standing here while your guests have all the fun?" She remarked with a laugh.

Joachim shook his head, humoring her with a smile when he replied. "I was merely enjoying a glass of wine with Catherine, though now that you are here, I can tell you are the life of the party. I am flattered that you came, milady."

"Is that so?" She asked, though it was more of a statement than a question. The woman's probing eyes made him swallow uneasily. "How kind of you to notice me, Lord Armster. I hope you like what you see."

"I…" While he tried to come up with something clever, Catherine bowed and turned away. "It t'was a pleasure speaking with you, Lord Armster." She said shortly and brushed aside a lock of her thick black hair. Before Joachim could respond, she made her way back into the crowd of guests. Joachim felt his throat constrict, his thoughts whirling upon realizing that she was gone yet again.

Satisfied by the fact their conversation was now private; the woman chuckled and extended a gloved hand to him. "Well, tis' a shame to see you without a partner."

Joachim forced himself to give the lady a formal bow while torturing the words out of his mouth. "I see that you are without one as well, milady. Would you care to dance with me?"

"Indeed I would!" She grinned, allowing him to take her hand in his. Joachim's fingers wound stiffly around hers as he drew her close to him. None of his movements felt natural – it was like he was a stone figure brought to life. As they moved together across the floor in a waltz, he heard her whisper in his ear. "So, milord, it seems you are feeling better. How do you plan to spend your time now that you are well again?"

"I do not know," Joachim replied, his eyes glancing over her in search of Catherine. Whenever the woman looked up at him, he made sure that their eyes met so she would not realize his attention was elsewhere.

"Really? Do you not get lonely living in such a large manor by yourself? Of course, you have attendants and servants, but they are different from family."

"Yes, that is true." Joachim mused.

"I am sorry to hear about your father's recent passing," She added quickly. "So tragic! You are the last heir to the Armster name…and quite a attractive young man – do forgive me for my outspokenness. Have you ever considered taking a wife? I am sure a wife could be a useful companion to you, don't you agree?"

"Perhaps," Joachim murmured, dissatisfied with the direction she was taking their conversation. "The thought has occurred to me. However, I am too ill to be a good husband. I'm afraid that, when I am ill, she would spend more time by herself than with me."

"Is that not typical of most lords and ladies?" She remarked, a smile still plastered upon her face as one of her hands reached up and touched his ashen cheek. "Many lords have gone to the East, leaving their wives to manage the estate in their absence. If you married a strong woman, I am sure she could cope with the inconvenience of your illness. Why, I rather enjoy being left to my own devices, as long as I am well-provided for…"

He sighed softly and looked down at her face, which did not leave him for a moment as they danced. Joachim took a few obscure glances around him whenever other couples neared, searching valiantly for Catherine's amethyst dress among the other brightly colored garments. So many people had arrived that he knew it would be impossible for him to spot her that easily. As he began to consider whether or not to search for her again, Maurizio, who was dancing with Emmaline, suddenly appeared next to him.

"I thought you were with Catherine?" The knight asked, raising an eyebrow with a look of confusion spreading across his face.

Joachim flushed and turned away, though his friend's expectant gaze forced him to answer coolly. "I was – but I asked Jezebel if she would honor me with a dance." He could not hide the fact that the flat tone in his voice contradicted his smiling expression.

"The evening's still young so you'd better get to her before I do."

"_What_?" Joachim snapped, his eyes narrowing until Maurizio relented.

"Do not get so defensive, I was merely joking!" The young man winked at him and danced in the other direction, all the while Joachim kept his eyes narrowed and vigilant. "So Joachim, I hear once one becomes a lord it is only suitable for them to find a wife. Have you set your eyes on anyone in particular?" he turned his head to look at her again, and bit his lower lip without a reply to her question. However, after only a second of feeling her gaze straying upon him, he quickly said. "I do not wish to discuss my personal affairs."

The music slowed to a stop when the song came to an end, and before he knew it his feet became heavy as lead and his hand slipped away from her. "That was a pleasant dance _milord._" She emphasized with a soft grin, and within seconds he looked at her again and gasped when she stood upon her toes and swiftly kissed him on the cheek. He rubbed the area with his hand as if it was diseased, and his brow furrowed slightly when she laughed and curtsied. "You are a skilled dancer, Lord Armster. I hope we meet again…"

"What the devil-" he turned quickly, expecting to see Jezebel, but instead he was not surprised to find she had quickly been replaced by Emmaline. Deep auburn eyes met his pale blue, causing him to remark in surprise. "I see Jezebel was swift to ensure I have a dancing partner. What happened with you and Maurizio? I cannot blame you for trading him off." A hinting smirk spread across his lips, though she merely shrugged casually and latched onto his arm. "I sought better company tonight." She whispered in his ear, her voice so soft that he gazed at her and the way her long, auburn colored hair fell down her back while part of it was tied up in a flowing ponytail decorated with roses and lace. "After all, like everyone says, you are quite the dancer. I would like to experience the feeling of being swept off my feet by a handsome young lord."

A soft giggle filled the air, and he jerked his head away when she reached up to toy with the silken strands of his ivory hair. "My, for a lord you are quite shy!" she quickly commented and lowered her hand, as his eyes diverted away from her face to stare at the floor as if there was something interesting near his feet.

Although he was growing weary of conversation, he grasped her stiffly in his arms, keeping pace with the music and minding his temper. Nevertheless, the displeasure in his voice threatened to undo his efforts. "I wish everyone would cease mentioning my title. I may be a lord, but lest we forget that it was premature – my father's death…if it were not for that…"

"I beg your pardon, milord?" She asked, her eyes looking up at him in confusion. The woman nearly stopped dancing; her stance uneasy, until he drew her closer to him and his lips formed an apologetic smile.

"Never mind…lets just continue to dance. I apologize for my rudeness, milady. I am feeling a bit weary-"

"Word has already spread about that little disagreement between you and Lord Caelan. What was it about? Such talk does strike my fancy, you know." She smirked at him and gave another swift wink, which in turn made a loud sigh part from his lips.

"I hardly think that is anyone's concern. Lord Caelan needed to be taught a lesson in manors. Even so, I doubt the accuracy of what you heard."

He nearly mumbled his words while his eyes continued to stray as if not even controlled by him, and no matter how hard he tried he could not cease his search for Catherine. He knew she was probably dancing with another.

"You seem to have a sharp tongue, Lord Armster. Is there nothing anyone can do to delight you?"

"There is." He muttered under his breath. "I would prefer to dance with whom I choose, rather than those whom I do not…"

The moment her eyes fell into his he forced a smile and chuckled softly, all the while took up the dancing position and placed a hand at her waist and enclosed the other around her dainty fingers. "What are you muttering?" she spoke with a returned grin, and he thoughtlessly continued to chuckle until she pressed her face near his. "You are always keeping secrets! Consider that a request from a lady."

He paused and looked down at her face, seeing the glint reflecting in her eyes that was so piercing that he delayed explaining. "I was wonder if, perhaps, you knew Catherine's whereabouts? I have something important to tell her-"

"Oh, Catherine." The woman's earnestness dissipated. An audible tone of annoyance seeped into her voice, attempting to sting him for his imprudence like an angry wasp. "Did she accompany you here to serve the drinks? I pray she does not poison us all if that is so."

Emmaline's voice was so bitter that he nearly pulled away from her. A flash of anger appeared in his eyes, and he stopped in the middle of their dance, his grip upon her tightening while his frustration mounted. "I have known Catherine since my youth. Do not _ever_ insult her in my presence." He hissed through gritted teeth, daring her to object as they stood in the middle of the floor glaring at one another. The woman's face reddened in response, her lips forcing themselves into a quivering smile. "I meant no harm." She whispered under her breath and lowered her head so that the other guests would think that she was shy, perhaps from being flattered by him. As quickly as she could, she withdrew her fan from a pocket in her dress and unfolded it. Like a nervous little bird, her hand held the object close to her face so that it was hidden from prying eyes. "Must we argue _here_, milord?" She snapped. "Why are you so troubled by a vagabond like her? She is a gypsy! Perhaps she is trying to fool you into believing her kind is capable of love-"

"Stop! I will hear no more of this!" Joachim's hand balled into a fist. Had she not been a woman, he may have struck her for what she said. "Hold your tongue, wench. My association with Catherine is none of your concern, do I make myself clear? She cared for me when no one else would – when I was ill she kept me company, told me stories, and treated me with dignity. I suppose I cannot expect someone like you to understand-"

"Oh, I understand perfectly." Emmaline's dark eyes glinted while she leaned closer to him, a smirk crossing her lips once their eyes met. "Indeed…" she continued. "A woman as pretty as she, is clever to befriend a wealthy young lord like yourself. How convenient! I must say, she is a discreet opportunist."

"What do you mean?" Joachim jerked his head back, his eyes widening from her implication.

"Well," Emmaline added without hesitating to lighten her tone upon being presented with the chance to ruin another woman's reputation. "They say the Corydon clan is in need of another marriage – sooner than expected, perhaps. I heard that her father is arranging to solve that little problem. Catherine is not in her father's favor as of late. Apparently, she refused to wed unless it is by her choice. A beggar like her would be lucky to marry a pauper!"

"Do you think this is true?" Joachim hid his urgency behind a solemn face, watching with a non blinking gaze when she cocked her head and replied.

"I know not. Catherine is regrettably, a favorite among her male counterparts. That is perhaps what troubles her father so, for she cannot even give a thought as to whom she wishes to marry."

A strange silence choked his throat, and his eyes once again lowered to stare at the floor. For a moment, he swayed in place, overcome by a surge of dizziness. "Joachim? Are you alright, you look awfully pale…" Upon hearing the woman's concern, he forced himself to look at her and gasped. "Why has she not mentioned this to me?" Although he was breathless, he could not contain the sudden fear that seeped through his veins. Every part of him ached of weakness, yet he was willing to risk his health to consider the situation.

Emmaline rolled her eyes and her voice was once again filled with distain. "As far as I know, Catherine has resisted her father's insistence that she marry. However, I imagine that her uncooperativeness will wane in time. Her father is eager to see her marry a local horse trader."

"I see…" he gazed about and finally breathed easier when the music ended. "It was a pleasure. I bid you a fair night, and may you enjoy the feast." He whirled to hurry away, but the moment he turned, her hand reached out in an attempt to pull him back. "Joachim?" She called, "Where are you off to now? You cannot seriously leave me here!"

Joachim ignored her. Everywhere the sounds of conversation filled his ears, yet he refused to give up no matter how long it took to find her. People's faces were shadowed by torchlight, making identifying specific faces more difficult than he expected. The young lord darted his way through the crowd, avoiding conversation when it was possible, and when not saying only a brief greeting as he went. The young man's frustration began to build until a loud applause startled him. He stopped and realized the attention of his guests had suddenly fallen upon him. It did not take him long to see why. The smell of food wafted through the room as Maurizio led a group of servants, each carrying a dish of various provisions toward the dining table.

His feet flew over the floor and he ducked between people, and his eyes brightened when they feasted not upon the food but upon the woman walking by herself toward the scene. "Catherine!" He called out loudly, smiling when she whirled to face him and waved him over.

"Joachim! I have been searching all over for you!" She hurried toward him and gave him a mischievous wink. The woman's thick black ringlets bounced with her steps. "I see Jezebel was swift to sweep you out of sight. Maurizio is looking for you as well. He wants you to carve the boar."

"I regret to say that I am not in the mood for a feast."

"Did you see the gifts your guests brought you? Some are simply magnificent!" She ushered to a nearby table where trinkets of gold and silver, as well as stacks of pies and fine chocolates were stacked in neat piles. "I would very much like to try some of that chocolate, it makes me so hungry just standing her staring at it!"

A soft sigh parted from his lips and he gave a silent nod. "Can the chocolates wait till later?" He asked, almost so quietly she could not hear. "Perhaps, if you are hungry we should eat together? I asked my servants to ensure that a chair was set next to mine at the table…it would be an honor if you would join me, Catherine."

A reflection of sheer surprise became evident in Catherine's emerald eyes, which prompted him to add. "I…did not intend to make you feel obligated. Of course, if you have other plans, I understand."

He noticed Catherine's cheeks flush a hint of pink while her eyes cast themselves to the floor. Then, as though she had finished collecting herself, her gaze found him again and she smiled. "I would be honored," She replied softly. "Are you certain you want me to sit by your side? What about Jezebel or Emmaline? Surely they would be more appropriate-"

"I care not what people think." He answered, "Except for you. I am proud to have you dine with me tonight. It means a great deal. I have never told you this, but…I…"

He felt his throat tighten suddenly, choking the breath from his lungs until he coughed and staggered, nearly losing his balance. Fortunately, Catherine was quick to rescue him, grabbing him by the arm so that he could lean on her for support. The young man's knees shook while he caught his breath, his face paling a shade of white that could have outmatched a ghost. Catherine waited until his coughing calmed before she said, her voice filled with alarm. "Joachim, are you alright? You have exerted yourself too much tonight, it is making you ill again. Come with me, tis' best you sit and regain your strength."

"Catherine-" before he could object, she shook her head and held up a hand.

"Not now Joachim. You're tired and I will not make it worse."

He felt his stomach churn in frustration, and his mind reeled to think no matter what he did his illness always got the better of him. He managed to set his posture upright, though gasped when he felt her warm hand slide over his forehead. The mere touch made his cheeks tingle again as before, but in turn she added in. "Oh look at yourself, your very hot and flushed! Why must you be so foolish with that manly image of yours, if your not feeling well go and join Maurizio at the head table. A little drink might soothe your temperature-"

"I am _not _ill Catherine!" he managed to burst again, and his eyes glared at her until she persistently took his arm. A slight smile played across her lips and she tugged him along without hesitation. It only took the sensation of her hands enclosed around his arm for him to follow her limply, but with each step a terrible scolding wreaked through his body and mind. When she stopped, his eyes widened as if taken out of a trance. "Is something the matter?" she paused and turned to the great wooden doors, which suddenly flung open to reveal the sounds of footsteps echoing loudly when the chatter in the room fell into silence.


	2. Chapter 2: Walter

Chapter II

Joachim looked over the crowd, where Kyran and a man he did not recognize stood in wait. "Ah, so my vassal finally decided to show up. I wonder what the delay was?" he continued to stare at the tall thin man with dusty gray hair and severe, gray eyes.

"Who is that other man?" Catherine whispered.

Joachim's attention focused on the stranger suspiciously. "I have no idea. However, I am about to find out." Before he could even lift his foot Catherine already started through the groups of spectators toward them. "Catherine! Wait-" he paused when it became clear she was not going to listen."Kyran! Where have you been?" The second he managed to get through to them and steeped out between two people, the man's eyes looked at him in surprise.

"Why, I must apologize. Tis' a long story, though I am certain you will understand the circumstances."

"Enough excuses. I want to know what is going on here. Can you not see you are disrupting the guests?" Joachim's lower lip curled.

"_I must apologize for the disturbance_."

Instantly, Joachim felt his body freeze upon hearing an unfamiliar voice. The voice was smooth and slightly deep. His eyes looked up and locked with the stranger's penetrating gaze, made his lips fall still. Like a deer shocked by the face of a hunter, he dared not move once his eyes locked upon man, who continued smoothly. "Good evening. You are Lord Armster, I presume?" He asked and without waiting for answer, an amused chuckle vibrated from his throat. "I was kindly informed by your vassal that there would be a small celebration tonight and I am pleased to say it has exceeded my expectations."

Joachim could not help but feel his entire being cease to move, and the man's words were so calm that it made his stance straighten, but no matter how tall he appeared his height made little match in comparison to the stranger's build and form. He was definitely not a giant, but still tall enough to make him uneasy. "Who are you?" Joachim inquired sharply; his eyes narrowing further when he took a stiff step forward and folded his arms across his chest. "I do not recall having invited you. If you are Maurizio's friend, I wish to speak with you and he right this instant." The young man glared reproachfully.

The red-haired stranger gave a courteous bow, his voice calm. "Do forgive my interruption, Lord Armster. I was merely curious after hearing about the announcement of a new lord in this region."

"I am afraid I cannot accommodate you tonight," Joachim replied with disinterest, his eyes never leaving the other lord for a moment. The man's unnerving smile prompted him to add quickly. "Do forgive me for my candor. I only have enough food for the guests I invited. It would be a terrible shame for you to be unable to enjoy the feast as well-"

"Joachim, surely you do not mean that?" Catherine interjected, her face beaming upon seeing the red-haired lord bow respectfully. "It was kind of him to come. If he means no ill will, why send him away? Forgive my intrusion, but I am certain it would be interesting to meet a visiting lord from a different region."

"This should not be allowed," Joachim snorted, though the harshness in his tone relented once he noticed Catherine sigh. After falling into an uneasy silence, he gave a reluctant nod, his pale blue eyes hardening. "Oh, very well, if you insist…" He muttered, despite the look of the displeasure upon his face as his lips formed a slighted scowl.

Joachim felt his eyes freeze on the red-haired lord who continued to look at him in amusement. The lord wore armor the color of blood, which nearly matched his side-parted shoulder length crimson hair. Behind his head was a high collar that fanned around the back of his head. The elaborate armor flared out at the shoulders, resembling two unfolded bat wings. His arms and thighs were covered by a skintight black undergarment, patterned with an ornate design that reached to down to his jet-black gauntlets. The elbow-high cuffs of the gauntlets were lined with gold, revealing that his claim of being a lord was not unfounded.

Worn on the man's feet were knee-high armored red boots that matched his chest armor. Joachim noticed that the other lord's skin was smooth and pale like snow, whilst his eyes were so dark he could not tell his irises from his pupils. The lord's right eye was partially covered by crimson bangs, which curled gracefully at the tips and splayed around his face and shoulders. Though at first, he did not wish to admit it, the stranger's form and build was quite remarkable. Although the lord's face and hair seemed almost doll-like, his jaw-line and cheekbones gave him a proud, masculine appearance. The subtle mixture of elegance and strength was something such a man had mastered completely. A surge of envy flowed through Joachim as he looked up at the other lord, hiding his admiration behind a pale mask of irritation.

"Hmm…" The lord murmured in a low voice, his eyes staring at the young man unblinkingly. "I do not require any food, though I thank you for your generosity. A glass of red wine will be satisfactory enough. Please," he added. "Run along and fetch me a glass."

Joachim stood and stared, his eyes ablaze the second he heard the man address him in such a casual tone. "If I am not mistaken, I am the Lord here. How _dare_ you treat me like a servant! I will not be mocked like some kind of lowly jester!" He gritted his teeth together and held his head high in an attempt to look at the other lord in the eyes.

"Interesting…" The stranger began slowly without even raising an eyebrow after listening to the young lord's outburst. "It seems I have been impolite, do forgive me Lord Armster. Tis' uncommon for a lord to be as young as you; however I am pleased to find such a fiery tempered Adonis is the one whom I hoped to meet."

Joachim once continued to scowl but when his expression was met with a returned one from Catherine, a deep sigh resounded before he replied brusquely. "If you came out of curiosity, I am afraid you shall be gravely disappointed. I have been ill these past few weeks and have nothing to discuss with you." When he noticed the other lord's brow furrow in puzzlement, he added matter-of-factly. "I have been ill since childhood. Doctors tell me it is due to a combination of my albinism and an imbalance from black bile. Thus, I have been too ill to manage the Armster estate. If you wish to discuss regional or political exploits, vassal Kyran can assist you in my stead, Lord…?"

With a deep nod, the man stepped closer, bowing with his formal introduction. "I am Lord _Walter Bernhard_. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lord Joachim Armster. What an interesting name you have, in both first and last. Was your father Xaeviean Armster?"

"Yes, and what of it?" Joachim tossed head back, allowing tendrils of his snow white hair to fall against his cheeks in graceful waves. "How do you know my family? Did my father know you?"

"Ah, you could say he did." The red-haired lord answered cryptically, a smirk creasing the corner of his fine lips. "I was asking out of curiosity because I am here to pay my respects. I heard from your vassal that Lord Zaeviean died recently."

The bemused smile on his face slowly faded into a firm expression, until his eyes darted to Catherine so quickly Joachim barely prevented himself from gasping. "Who is this fine lady by your side? I do not recall seeing a woman so lovely in quite some time."

Catherine giggled when he reached out and took her hand, raising it gently to his lips, which lightly kissed its surface. "What do you think you're doing?" Joachim interrupted, his voice rising yet again until their eyes locked. The young lord found himself gazing into Walter's opaque eyes, unable to move as the other lord smirked at him coolly.

"Joachim," Catherine's eyes narrowed to meet his. "Lord Walter was merely complimenting me. Please, calm yourself. I think you are straining yourself too much tonight-"

"I am perfectly fine!" He nearly snapped, though managed to catch the temptation in time to speak firmly instead as he inquired. "Walter, or whoever you say you are, what business do you have in Creightel?"

With a flick of his long, black cape, Walter chuckled – evidently, more amused than impressed by the young man's impatience. One of his hands brushed away the coils of thick, red hair veiling part of his left eye, his regal head lifting so that his tall, built frame loomed over Joachim. Compared to Walter, Joachim's sickly pale form seemed even feebler than usual. "I may be a stranger," He eased "However, I live in a castle south of Dalwood, near your village. I would like to acquaint myself with my neighboring lords. It makes things more…interesting, if you will."

Joachim gritted his teeth and clenched his hands into fists. "You say you live near Dalwood?" The young man placed a hand to his chin thoughtfully, and when Walter nodded, he added warily. "I was not aware there was a lord ruling over that region." In his attempt to find answers, Walter provided more questions instead. Yet, before he could inquire further, he noticed that Maurizio had been listening the entire time. The knight stood behind Catherine, his eyes fixated on Walter, unable to resist the opportunity to contribute to their conversation.

"Why, is that not the forest of Eternal Night?" Maurizio asked between gulps of ale, draining the mug he held to the last drop before remarking. "They say it always dark there. Nevertheless, no one has returned to describe it in detail-"

"Of course someone has to have gone there and returned." Joachim scoffed, his icy eyes narrowing. "How else would anyone know about the fact it is dark if they had not returned?"

"Of course, it is only a legend!" Maurizio said, immediately withdrawing his excitement.

"That forest stretches for miles. Anyone who goes there would probably get lost and never find their way out. Not even hunters or travelers take that route since they say a vampire dwells thereabouts."

Joachim rolled his eyes and gave an overly loud sigh. However, when he looked at Walter, the lord said in a curious tone. "Is that so? Hmm…do go on. I enjoy listening to legends about Eternal Night. Though, I shall say, Eternal Night is quite a fascinating place. The branches of the trees nearly cover the sky like a canopy, so it is no wonder some mistaken it for perpetual night..."

Joachim sighed again and turned his head away, trying his best to ignore the statement but he could not help but sense the sheer amusement still emanating from the stranger. "Well," The knight continued. "They also say the vampire that lives there captures maidens in order to lure their unwary rescuers into his domain. Actually, I have heard that a few women in Dalwood have disappeared without a trace over the past century. Who knows? It is a legend anyway, and nothing has happened as of late to confirm it."

"Nor will anything happen," Joachim chided. "I scarcely see why we are talking about such nonsense. Vampires are merely figments of the human imagination created out of our desire to defy death." Joachim shook his head, unable to hide the tone of exasperation in his voice. He straightened his posture even further to a rigid stance, unmoved by the conversation, despite the growing interest of his comrades.

"Why would a vampire do such a thing? How can that be entertaining?" Catherine asked while her eyes darted between Joachim and Walter, her lips curving into a frown upon finding that she was caught in the middle of their debate.

"Vampires work in many ways, milady." Walter replied. Uncharacteristically, Joachim's attention was drawn to the man's patient words. "Perhaps that vampire simply enjoys it like one enjoys a sparring tournament between knights. If one had the ability to do as they please, eternal life would seem rather monotonous after a time."

"Oh, and I suppose you're the expert on that?" Joachim eyed Walter once again in suspicion. A faint twinge of a smile crossed the other lord's lips when he stared back at him without replying. Whether it was out of his desire to mock him or out of irritation was impossible to determine.

Despite Joachim's harshness, Maurizio shrugged, his light brown eyes dancing between the two lords with growing delight. "Well, a description of the vampire was recorded by an old man who witnessed the creature bite his daughter. The man's wife and son were butchered that same night. I scarcely say, it was one of the most brutal murders I have ever heard about. The vampire's swiftness was said to be almost godly, with the ability to control objects, people, and translocate instantly. It was also said to be extremely frightening when it attacked, possessing such power and strength that even the strongest knight might cower in its presence."

"That is utterly ridiculous! No…it is not even that, it is merely ignorance. Vampires are excuses for murderous acts people commit upon one another, as well as to scare those who are weak minded." Joachim's deepened with his words, and he gave Walter another foreboding glare that suddenly enticed Catherine's attention.

"Joachim, are you implying that I am weak-minded? I think it is a possibility, especially since people in Dalwood and even our village of Creightel have suddenly disappeared or been found dead - presumably bitten by diseased bats."

Catherine folded her arms across her chest, refusing to look at him as he struggled to come up with a response. Joachim huffed and waved her away, his eyes not hesitating to remain locked on Walter's amused smirk. "Catherine," he began. "I did not intend to insult you. I simply believe that vampires do not exist. There is no evidence to support such stories."

No sooner had Joachim attempted to argue that contrary than Walter's deep voice fill the air. Almost everyone stopped and looked at him, their faces transfixed by his presence. However, unsurprisingly, Joachim was the sole exception. The young man looked away in boredom as Walter replied. "Some legends are not as unreal as they seem. If you are interested in the Church's hunt for witches and heathens, the existence of vampires is not implausible."

Joachim's eyes narrowed again upon hearing the other lord's implication. "The day I meet a vampire is the day a lark sings at midnight. Such ridiculous notions are not fit for my ears or my attention."

Walter chuckled, and the sound was so different than anything Joachim had heard before that his eyes darted to stare at the man while traces of amusement still circulated through the glint in his dark eyes. "My, such animosity I have caused! Perhaps Lord Armster, it would be best if you and I had a talk – alone."

"Fine. Let's have a conversation then." Joachim sneered. "I want to know more about you, _Lord_ Walter, and why you have come here."

Joachim's movements felt mechanical, for when he walked his legs carried him stiffly toward a nearby wall. As he went, he had to look over his shoulder to ensure that Walter was accompanying him, for strangely the man's steps were silent. Walter paused briefly before turning to Joachim, bowing to Catherine and Maurizio in temporary farewell. "It was a pleasure good sir and lady. I look forward to continuing our discussion in a few moments."

Catherine smiled in return, her cheeks turning a noticeable shade of pink. Without further delay, Walter finally returned his attention to Joachim, his voice quiet yet bold. The two lords stood next to a wall, outside of earshot from the guests, who had seated themselves at the table and occupied by the mounds of food set out for them by Joachim's servants.

"Well, Lord Armster." Walter began at last, almost sighing in exasperation. "You appear quite distressed this evening. Pity, considering the purpose of this event is to celebrate."

Joachim glared at Walter, hardly daring to breathe while the man towered over him. A slight smile appeared across Walter's face, which prompted Joachim to inquire.

"I want to know how you knew my father." He nearly flinched to find his words had quickly filled the air in their blunt and irritated tone, as his eyes locked on Walter when the man let out a low huff.

"Yes, your father…I should have expected you would want to know that. Lord Xaeviean and I had our differences, which his death ultimately resolved."

Joachim's eyes bore into Walter's, and with trembling lips, lowered his head and felt the white strands of his shoulder length hair fall around his cheeks. Walter's gaze was penetrating and mystifying. The young man felt somehow vulnerable in his presence, as if at any moment Walter was capable of crushing his frail body on a whim. The uncertain feeling within him was so strong that he unknowingly backed into the wall, his back pressing against it so hard that his armor ground against its stone surface.

Walter stared at him for a long moment, his expression unchanging, until he cocked his head and replied shortly. "What a pity. I regret that he and I had unfinished business. Tis' no matter of importance now, however…"

The tone in which the other lord spoke became so bitter that Joachim shuddered and turned away. "Business?" He wondered aloud. "What kind of business did my father have with you? As lord of Creightel, I now have the right to my father's affairs. If you had something to do with him demand that you tell me!" he held his head high and stared at him directly, but when Walter laughed his eyes widened at the sound.

Walter's voice remained deep, perhaps almost chilling in its boldness. "And you are quite the lord, Joachim. I have never encountered a lord who mingles with both nobles and peasants so freely. Is that clever young lady whom you call Catherine, a gypsy?"

"Does it matter? I care not." Joachim lied. Of course he knew that feigning indifference was easier than admitting that his affections for the young woman had not gone unnoticed by Walter, either. Joachim's gaze hardened, but his words felt weak compared to that of the man before him. A strange silence consumed his throat, and he swallowed hard.

"Hmm…" Walter mused, while Joachim had to use every effort to stop himself from trembling under the man's somber voice. "You look just like your father – you have his hair and face, but those eyes…belong to your mother."

"What are you talking about?" Joachim inquired sharply, but clutched a hand over his chest when the room began to spin. For a brief second he thought to have seen an almost reddish tint reflect in the red-haired lord's eyes. "No…not now…" he whispered, choking desperately to breathe.

"What is the matter?" Walter asked slowly, his voice quiet but hinting of alarm. "You seem tired. Perhaps the lady Catherine has good intention to think you are not well this evening…" Joachim shook his head and squinted as if a bright light had invaded his vision, but the room was still darkened by torchlight and the shadows cast around the room hid part of Walter's face.

"Its…nothing…really…I sometimes…have dizzy bouts…but they pass." His voice quickly became ragged, and at the worst time his dizziness had returned to him. In frustration he attempted to push himself back up the wall, but only succeeded in nearly falling over onto the floor, until he closed his eyes and felt something grasp firmly onto each of his arms and lift him back onto his feet. Astonished, Joachim's eyes sprung open, where he found himself so close to Walter's face the man smiled at him. "Are you certain you are well Lord Armster? You have paled like snow, perhaps you should sit down and rest."

"I don't want to sit down!" he spat through gritted teeth and managed to slide himself away from Walter's hold, feeling his body freeze the moment the man's icy cold hands touched him. "I don't need your help! Occasionally this happens, and I have managed fine on my own." A subtle gasp escaped his lips, and he breathed deeply while attempting to walk away from the wall. The second he lifted his body from it, he cried out when it fell backward and hit it violently, nearly sending him onto the floor again. With the speed of an eagle, Walter's hand enclosed around the collar of the young man's robe and held him up. His eyes widened and gazed up at Walter's face as his body fell limp in the man's hold.

"You are not well." Walter insisted, his voice becoming quiet and restrained. "You must rest. If you are chronically ill, I see no point in making it worse. Life is too short without being ill, after all…"

"I-I…." His eyes slowly opened and closed, and his breaths weakened again until his lids shot open at the sudden cry.

"Joachim, are you alright?" Softened footsteps grew steadily louder, until he felt warmth enclose around him in an embrace. His eyes slowly fluttered open, falling upon Catherine, who had appeared next to the other lord. A look of concern washed across her face upon seeing his disoriented state. The woman's bright green eyes did not leave him for a moment, her lips trembling as Walter gently let go of the young man, his dark eyes watching carefully to make sure if he could stand without falling.

"Catherine…" Joachim whispered upon feeling her hand touch his cheek in concern. The words barely left his lips, which had become dry and cracked while his throat ached for water. Almost intuitively, the young woman withdrew a small flask from her pocket and uncorked it, pressing the opening of the bottle to his lips. A flood of cold, fresh water flowed down his throat, reviving him enough that he steadied himself.

"Come Joachim," She took his arm and began to lead him toward his chair at the table. "Whether you like it or not you will rest for a while. These kinds of events are stressful on you, please don't make it worse for yourself."

"No, no I am alright! It was just a spell, its nothing to worry about." When he looked at her face, it was washed with concern though a weak smile managed to appear.

"Joachim, I fail to understand how you could think that Walter is an uncaring man. He kept you from falling! How kind it was of him – thank you so much Walter for your courtesy."

Joachim's attention diverted momentarily to Walter, who stood silently, the locks of his crimson hair splaying around his face as he bowed. "It was no trouble at all. Celebrating can become quite tiring after a while, especially when one suffers from an illness."

Joachim winced at his words, hating the thought of being weak but he caught the hint when Walter slowly followed as Catherine led him across the floor to the tables. "I am not a child, Catherine!" he protested.

"That is because your attitude is causing you to act like one." Catherine replied coolly. "If you are not feeling well then you should mind your temper."

His throat tightened and he could not think of another objection except to turn his head and watch Walter nonchalantly following behind them. The man's movements were smooth and silent. When his eyes locked with Walter's, he swallowed hard and turned to face ahead again. The moment they arrived at the head table, Catherine eased him down into his chair. "Now, you are to sit there until you calm down. I will hear no more arguments from you; Walter is to stay at the party. It is the least you can do for him in gratitude."

Joachim rested his head against the velvet lined chair and sighed deeply, but quickly straightened when Walter walked around the table and sat across from him, facing him deliberately. Catherine's attention returned to the other lord, her eyes glittering in admiration, though the shy smile upon her lips attempted to hide it. "It is a pleasure to have you here Lord Walter – even if Joachim refuses to admit it. I am pleased to be in your company tonight."

"Thank you, Catherine. I suppose my evening ride proved worthwhile then since I was able to meet a fine lady such as you. Have you had a pleasant evening? After all, to be entertained at another's party is greatly important. I ensure anyone who visits my castle is always kept occupied." A broad, cheeky grin swept across Walter's face, making his dark eyes glisten in the candlelight. The other lord began to chuckle to himself, amusement flashing across his face, though hiding something like a mask.

Joachim's eyes darted between Catherine and Walter, watching how she turned in her chair so that she could face him. "You have a castle?" she exclaimed. "I have never set foot in one before! Tell me, what is it like? Do you have lots of servants and big beautiful rooms?"

Walter rested an elbow on the table while cupping his chin in his hand. "Yes, my castle is the largest in these lands - I am quite proud to be its master. I have servants like any other lord, but I am often away so it makes little difference. When I am there though, I enjoy being entertained by my various…guests that come."

"What's the name of your castle? What do you do when you go away?" She blinked several times and leaned closer to him, and Joachim gasped softly when he noticed Walter began to smile like a Cheshire cat.

"You ask many questions milady, but I enjoy good conversation." He casually drummed his gauntlet covered fingers on the table, and after a few clicks from the metal filled the air, Joachim gritted his teeth together as he continued. "My castle is known as Eternal Night, named coincidentally after the forest surrounding it. As the master lord, I often go away to tend to…business…but I enjoy the serene feel of the forest. Darkness does invoke much in me, but it is also filled with adventure."

"Adventure? Do go on! I love tales of adventure, it is so rare anyone around here has anything like that to tell!" her eyes lit up like stars at the word, but with a resumed smile Walter chuckled as if amused by a small child's request.

"How about do not go on, and save me the strain of listening to your garbage." Joachim's eyes hardened upon the man, who returned it with a frozen gaze until Catherine waved him away.

"I want to hear what he has to say, so if you aren't interested keep quiet so I can listen!"

Joachim sat back in his chair, emitting an obvious huff in irritation, but it was quickly covered with Walter's eager explanations.

"The forest can be a magnificent place, but it can also be one filled with bandits and thieves. On one occasion I happened upon a group of them who thought to raid my castle whilst I was away, but they did not make it very far before I ensured their actions ceased. I fought all eight of them at once, but they were unskilled and easy to subdue. I left the last thief to flee the forest, so that more would never return unless they wished to meet an unfortunate end."

"A very compelling story _lord_ Walter, but how is it possible to take on eight men at once? What you said is exactly that, a story and nothing more." Joachim smirked slightly and shook his head, though he silenced when Walter smirked back and reassured.

"Ah, anything is possible – even what seems impossible has been known to happen. If one has the power, then one can do as they wish. The battle I fought prevented them from stealing, but even so if they went into my castle I would not allow them to leave. If you know what it means to be skilled at something and have confidence in it, then why doubt yourself?"

Joachim moved his lips to speak but paused briefly on the question, his mind searching for the appropriate response as Catherine added in. "Oh that was a simply wonderful story! You're so brave to do something like that, far braver than any knight I have ever met! Do you have any more stories?" she nearly jumped in her chair with anticipation. Joachim clearly saw the growing sparkle in her emerald eyes that caused him to shift in his chair and gaze at her solemnly, noting the growing pink coloration in her cheeks.

"Of course I can tell you more!" Walter answered. "I am always willing to share my experiences, for I have seen a great many things…many things not seen by just anyone…"

"Really?" Joachim chided, his fingernails gripping the arms of his chair whilst he smirked. "I would not lie to make myself look better in another's eyes." His lips became taut and held his head high, glaring at Walter across the table. The man's gaze fell into his once again, not blinking but always searching as if able to see through him, a thought so discomforting he finally looked away. No matter how hard he tried he could not pin point the source of the man's mysterious aura, but another wave of dizziness flooded through him and it felt so painful he rubbed his brow with his hand to try and make the feeling die away.

"Dizzy again?" Walter asked slowly. "Hmm…you best listen to Catherine's advice. It could cause you more…strain if you will." Catherine instantly looked at him and nearly got out of her chair, but she remained seated and held up a hand.

"Joachim, please just relax for a little while. Ignore us if it suits you, but try to rest…." Her eyes reflected evident distain, which made him close his lips together compliantly and relax in his chair once again. The room spun in his mind while conversations died away and he nearly stopped focusing all together, however it passed once more and he blinked several times until he was sure it faded – for the moment.

"What are you discussing over here? You're missing the fun!" Joachim jumped in his chair when a hand clamped over his shoulder, and he looked up to see Maurizio's face grinning at him broadly alongside Jezebel and Emmaline. He fumbled with his words, but by the time he thought to explain their attention darted away when Catherine added in.

"There you all are! You should sit down; Lord Walter has some adventure stories to tell! The one he told me about defeating eight thieves at once was amazing!" Maurizio raised his eyebrows, and the moment Joachim thought his friend would refuse he instead sat down next to him in the empty chair.

"Adventure! Where there's adventure, you shall find me! A good story or two never hurt, and since I know so little about you Walter, I would very much enjoy hearing some."

Joachim rolled his eyes and leaned over to his friend, and in curiosity Maurizio complied and listened to him whisper sharply. "Do not waste your time. Walter makes them all up – do you seriously think it is possible for a normal man to defeat eight men in battle without aid? If anything we should have a drink and mock him for telling tales."

"Nonsense, Joachim." Maurizio waved him away. "I want to hear it, and so do Jezebel and Emmaline! They've been eyeing Walter since he arrived. A stranger can be one of the most interesting people to listen to!"

Joachim growled softly at the loud presumptuous voice Maurizio used, and with a hearty laugh he moved away and turned his head to look at Walter. "Maurizio-" Joachim began again, but stopped to see Jezebel and Emmaline walk around the table and sit next to Walter. "I love stories, especially when they are told by such a noble and handsome lord." Jezebel sat nearest to Walter, her eyes glittering while she moved so close she was nearly leaning on him.

Walter returned her gesture with a slight smile. "And who are these fine ladies I have the pleasure of entertaining this evening?" His voice spoke in the renewed bemused tone, as he turned and looked at the two women who giggled the second his eyes met theirs. Playfully Walter reached out and touched Jezebel's face with his gauntlet-covered hands. "Has an artist ever painted such beauty? I suppose it can never be captured for it is too beautiful to be put on a canvas, but it would be breathtaking for any man if he could admire it forever. Tis' a shame that such beauty does not last."

"My, what a gentleman you are Lord Bernhard! Please, you're embarrassing me!" Jezebel's eyes gazed into his.

Walter answered again with a reassured smile. "I do not mean to embarrass you, but how can I overlook such exquisite features? Please, milady, addresses me as Walter. I dare say that lovely woman next to you is equal in beauty. I dare say that even the moonlight would envy her."

Both women giggled and Joachim noticed them slide their chairs as close to Walter as possible. "As for you, Catherine…" Walter added, his dark eyes looking upon her unblinkingly. "The moment I saw you, I did not question that I was in the presence of a goddess. You are wed, are you? I would not be surprised if that were true, for a lady so fair as you deserves a strong and gracious lord…"

Joachim froze like a statue in his chair, watching Catherine say nothing, but noticing her face turn the color of crimson. Jezebel and Emmaline's laughter made his mind spin, but he was jerked back into reality when Walter stared at him across the table. "As for you, Lord Armster…. there is much I can say. You are a strong-willed lord, with a face not unlike that of a porcelain doll – smooth and well contoured to match your dagger like eyes. You sit there staring at me with such loathing, but that I cannot help but say is a rather attractive trait. What woman here would not die to become your lady? Illness aside…"

"Do you think I want to have you speak of me in that manner? Your tongue is not fit for my name, so I suggest you keep your comments to yourself." Joachim's voice rose and he breathed deeply through his nostrils, flaring them when Walter chuckled. All the women sat rigidly at the table with their hands folded in their laps, but their eyes never leaving him for an instant.

"Relax Joachim, he was merely complimenting you." Maurizio said, attempting to diffuse the situation. However, Joachim pulled his friend close and whispered in his ear. "Maurizio, his words were inappropriate! I suggest we show him out, because he has worn out his welcome here."

Maurizio pulled away and stared at him for a moment, shaking his head when he glanced at Walter before remarking. "The rest of us want to hear him out. Now, on with the stories." Joachim gaped to find his friend lean over the table and chuckle as Walter nodded, watching how Maurizio's deep auburn eyes stared directly at the man while his forest green robes swept with his movements when he raised a hand and summoned a servant for drinks. A slight grin pierced his friend's lip to meet the glint of admiration in his eyes that heightened considerably the moment Walter's voice began. "As you wish, I will tell another story…."

Joachim could not force his eyes away from the red haired man sitting directly across the table from him. Walter had relaxed into his chair and leaned on one side, with a gauntlet hand draped over the arm of the chair and covered by Jezebel's grasp. Tendrils of his slightly curled, wavy red locks fell gracefully around his face and shoulders. His skin was so pallid Joachim had no trouble seeing his face and stiffened when the man's eyes locked deliberately with his. Everyone else at the table was glued to Walter as he spoke, giving a few dramatic hand gestures as he continued his stories.

"So, I fought all of them! Then more of those despicable things came, and when I thought to have slain ten I found myself slaying twenty! It seemed impossible for me to win, but I had no doubt it would be an easy accomplishment…"

Joachim blinked once and sighed under his breath, knowing all too well he was not really listening.

"I am known as the best warrior in the land through many, and I deserved such a title for men flee at the sight of me and tremble at my blade…" As he continued groups of people standing nearby walked over to the table ands stood around it, listening silently while their eyes were drawn to him.

Walter's words came out like a blur in Joachim's mind, and he gave a loud yawn when the man at last finished. Catherine cupped her hands together and beamed at Walter. "Oh that was simply marvelous! You kept my attention the whole time, you're far better than any storyteller I heard as a child!"

Walter gave her a slight smile in return, and when a servant appeared and set the drinks of wine on the table he reached and swiped three, handing them politely to each lady before taking one for himself. "That was the most boring made up tale I have ever heard in my life. I nearly fell asleep trying to listen to it."

Joachim leaned back in his chair without touching his glass, and instead brushed aside a strand of his ivory hair while his lips formed into a displeased frown. "I thought it was well told!" Maurizio exclaimed, instantly diverting their gaze away from him and to the knight. "I wish my adventures were as compelling as yours! So little happens around here that the only chance of adventure for me was in the crusades, but alas…"

The groups of people surrounding the table buzzed like bees in agreement, and without hesitation Emmaline said. "I loved it! Simply loved it, your so amazing Lord Walter!" she nearly jumped up from her chair, but still kept her hand over the man's gauntlet until Jezebel added. "Yes I agree! So detailed and exciting that I nearly wanted to be there at your side, the side of a brave strong lord who can hold his own against all matters of treacherous heathens and scoundrels!"

Walter's smile became broader the more the compliments flowed in, even from the spectators as Joachim gave another exasperated sigh and listened when the dancing music once again resounded through the room.

Without another complaint he looked at Catherine, silently trying to get her attention with his gaze but her attention was absorbed in Walter's stories. The music began to pick up in pace, and with it so did the beating of his heart while he sat there in contained silence gazing at her form. He watched how her hair fell down her back in thick ringlets, the way her mouth parted when she laughed and the sparkle of her jade colored eyes. Joachim nearly recoiled in surprise when Walter suddenly locked eyes with him again, staring endlessly though still appearing to be listening to the constant compliments directed at him.

For a moment all the man expressed was his bemused smile, until he turned to Catherine. "Ah, music has brought new life to this event. Catherine, would you care to dance? It would be an honor if you accept."

Joachim felt the air being sucked out of his lungs from hearing the other lord's invitation. Without hesitation he bolted from his chair and shouted, his eyes widening further to find his own objection had swiftly escaped for everyone to hear. "_No_." A wave of dizziness again swept through him when all eyes fell upon his frame as he stood trembling in place and clutching a hand to his vest plate. Catherine merely gave him an annoyed glare while she got up and wrapped her hands around Walter's arm.

"Joachim," Catherine said, her voice somewhat strained. "Do not worry. I shall be back in a moment."

Joachim's mouth gaped and he continued to stand, but his feet began to demand he sit back down when they wobbled unsteadily, but he refused and continued stare at Walter when he got up with her. "The lady is right. You should relax for a bit longer. Are you afraid I will not return her to you? Do not worry…." A low chuckle parted from his lips, and Joachim followed with his eyes as Walter escorted Catherine away from the table.

"What's the matter with you tonight?" Maurizio questioned. "You're being defensive and rude to a guest. That isn't going to reflect well on your lordship…" Joachim glared at him and clenched his hands into fists, feeling his rage pulsate when he looked at the dance floor and saw Walter and Catherine begin a slow waltz. "Walter is _not_ my guest." He whispered darkly under his breath. "Fine. If all of you want to have fun with _him_ then do as you please, but I have no such intention."

Without another glance he stomped across the floor, and heard whispering echo through the room over the music. "Joachim! Come back, where are you going?"

He ignored his friend's startled call and continued onward, his eyes staring ahead and not daring to look at Walter when he made his way across the dance floor toward the doors on the opposite side. "Joachim?" Jezebel and Emmaline's calls sounded soon after, but the second he heard their footsteps flying over the floor after him, he broke out into a run and flew by groups of spectators that turned and stared at him in disbelief. Within moments he burst through the doors and ran down the long hallway until stepping outside into the cold night air. No one followed him.


	3. Chapter 3: Nostalgia

Chapter III

As he walked through the deserted cobblestone roads of Creightel, his eyes stared at the ground as his footsteps echoed in the darkness from the steel embroidered plating of his boots hitting the stone surface. No one was about, and even if there was he did not see anyone within the fog that consumed the whole town at night. The small ornate houses were silent and the shutters closed and locked, giving the impression he was all alone. The only remote presence with him was from the full moon looming in the sky and providing his only light source from its dim majestic glow. It felt colder since it was later in the evening, and his breaths grew thicker in the air while his skin shivered from the crisp chill of the September wind.

In desperation to keep warm he folded his arms across his chest to keep them close to his body, while trying to rely off the warmth of his robe that billowed behind at a leisurely sway to meet his quickened steps. "Damn Walter…" he cursed to himself. "He ruined everything! Why could I not say the one thing I meant to say? Catherine must think I'm a fool now, but she doesn't see what I saw in that man…" Perhaps he was becoming paranoid? He ignored it with a loud huff, almost trying to smile at the mere proposal of being irrational to add on to what many most likely thought of his sudden departure. "A man named Walter simply shows up, joins my party without permission, and everyone thinks that is_ acceptable._" He found himself recalling the evening that had swiftly turned so very wrong. "Fools! All of them! Walter might as well have been the guest of honor. Why doesn't he just take my place as lord here so that I can leave this accursed village?"

Joachim kicked at a loose pebble on the ground, sending it flying ahead and skittering across in fainted little taps when it bounced over the cobblestone. A low growl vibrated through his throat and he could not help but continue to vent his frustration. His body began to feel numb from the cold, and his teeth chattered softly when he wiped his eyes with his sleeve and gazed at the ground. Another wave of dizziness consumed him and sent him staggering into a wall. "Damn!" he muttered. "If only everyone would stop treating me like an invalid." He stopped at the wall and pressed his back against it, and raised his head to stare up at the night sky still vaguely visible within the fog. "At least I was not so gullible to be deceived by Walter. I am far wiser than that foolish tyrant." He grimaced and pushed his body away from the wall, nearly falling over as he continued down the road again. "Ah, he had the nerve even to speculate I am albino! What does he fail to understand that my cursed white hair came from my father's side? Damn Walter…" he continued to mutter to himself, for he had no one to spill his anger to except the night which also seemed to not want to listen.

The cobblestone road continued through until the houses diminished and on either side of the road was a neat wooden fence. Emerald green fields exposed the bleakness of scattered trees and shrubbery that disappeared over the dark mountainous terrain beyond, but when he increased his steps he caught sight of the familiar building awaiting him near the field on the left side. "Armster Manor…its about time I returned home anyway…" he scanned the large castle-like structure ahead, and when he came about halfway up the path he stopped and walked to the fence. For a long moment he searched the fields, his eyes hardened in the night as he leaned over the fence and whistled a tune into the air. The song carried in the wind, which ruffled his shoulder length straight white hair and added another of its cold blows across his cheeks. Joachim listened intently until he saw a silvery flash appear ahead of him in the field, following a loud rhythmic thumping noise that drew toward him at his bidding.

He smiled and whistled again, making his throat open so it could carry even farther. The thumping over the grass grew steadily closer until the creature appeared within the darkness. Its coat gleamed like silver coins and its long tresses fell gracefully over its neck while its tail flagged in the wind. When it neared him it slowed to a graceful trot, and then to a dance like walk that barely caused a sound to escape into the air. Joachim extended his hand to it, and when it stopped in front of him he breathed easier when he felt its muzzle brush against his palm. "Cojiro." He spoke, and in response it pricked its ears forward and emitted a low whicker from within its throat. Joachim stroked the muzzle softly with his hands, his eyes gazing into the dark orbs of his horse that glittered in the night. The stallion lowered its head to him and moved closer, its onyx hooves stepping over the grass when it swished its tail and brushed its muzzle against his shoulder. "I am so glad to see you tonight. Believe it when I say my party did not go exactly as I wished. At least you're here to listen to me…"

A sigh parted from him, but the horse gave another low whicker when he moved a hand into the pocket of his robe just beneath his armored vest and pulled out a small carrot. He opened his hand and presented the carrot to the stallion, which quickly lowered its muzzle onto his flesh and took the carrot between its soft lips to crunch down on it eagerly. "People are so easy to manipulate, they even believe in the existence of vampires. What a joke that is! Did you happen to see any vampires pass by along here tonight?" he smiled at the stallion and waited, but what returned him was a deep silent gaze. Joachim chuckled from the reaction and patted his horse's neck. "See! There are no such things as vampires – witches perhaps since the church is obsessed with them, but vampires are merely legendary at best." He shook his head and leapt onto the fence, where he carefully balanced himself and sat down upon it for a moment. His eyes trailed upward to the starry night sky, and with a sigh he whispered softly. "If anyone dares to speculate my father died from a vampire I would ensure they never spoke again. Its those cursed bats that fly about here; they have been known to attack people all the time. If my father had not traveled home during the night he would not have fallen to such an ill fate."

A strange silence soon swallowed his words. From somewhere he thought he heard a wolf howling. A soft snort escaped through the horse's nostrils and it raised its head to catch the scents of the fields. Joachim found himself doing the same thing, but the crisp air seemed to numb his nose and chill his frail body to the bone. He hated the cold, and most of all he hated the long snowy winters that were common in such a barren region. With winter came plagues and with the plagues came death. Often, during the coldest days of the winter months, he was bedridden from illness. As a child he longed to play in the snow but his father always forbade it. Thus, most of his life was spent looking out frosty windowpanes at a land blanketed in cold and desolate whiteness.

Joachim jumped off the fence and reached out to Cojiro, running his hands over the horse's soft neck. "How about some exercise tonight Cojiro? This would be more fun than that dreadful party." The horse gave an agreeable snort as he climbed upon its back.

"Alright Cojiro." He spoke into the horse's ear. "Lets go. Become as fast as a unicorn, fly over the fields and take me up into the sky! You're still young, you can do it!" the horse tossed its head up and down as if nodding, an action that always caused him to smile no matter what mood he was in. When he was comfortably seated on its back, he grabbed its mane firmly in his hands and leaned forward. The second he nudged the horse with the steel heels of his boots, the steed tore off across the field toward the manor. Joachim gasped when the wind blew his hair back and whipped at his face, and listened to the loud thumping of Cojiro's hooves hitting the grass. The moonlight illuminated the path, and the horse picked up speed when he cried out joyously in the air and felt his heart lighten somewhat at the feeling of freedom.

Within a few minutes he rode up to the stable and slowed Cojiro down to a slow trot. One of his serfs opened the barn doors to let him inside, and upon entering he dismounted and walked ahead to the stall at the back. Cojiro followed behind, occasionally whinnying to the other horses but always keeping pace with his steps. Joachim's eyes locked on the empty stall and he slid the door open to admit his horse, which walked inside calmly and turned around to face him the moment he slid it shut and reached out to stoke its muzzle again. "Thank you Cojiro. Walter will return from whence he came and everything will be normal again. I hope the rest of them enjoy that party, since next time I shall host it at the manor where _I_ can do as I please." The horse whickered to him comfortingly, and with a grim smile he patted the side of its neck and walked out of the stable.

Upon arriving at the gates surrounding the manor, he continued up the path while looking up at the large home he had lived in all his life. It resembled a castle, but without the large spires and towers and had only two separate floors. Surrounding the manor was an elaborate garden with numerous species of flowers that bloomed in the summer. The early frost that month had frozen most of the flowers and made them wilt. The manor's large windows glowed as if welcoming him back. Upon arriving at the manor's arched entranceway, Joachim ascended the stone steps leading to large ornate doors. The moment he reached for the bell to summon one of his servants, the door opened unexpectedly and bowed. "Good evening milord. Please, come inside and get warm." Joachim relaxed as the warmth and familiarity of the manor enveloped him in security. "I would like a cup of tea, please. Also, have someone take the books on the desk in my study to the Solar room. Make haste fetching them, for I have a great deal of reading to do tonight."

"Was your party satisfactory, milord?" The servant asked with a tone of practiced civility.

"I would rather avoid discussing that subject. If I am not mistaken, such matters are none of your concern." His brow narrowed and a frown darkened his face. From the corner of one eye he saw the servant shift uncomfortably.

Joachim changed the subject, his voice curt so that their conversation would end. "Ensure my books are brought to me." He did not leave until the servant nodded without replying. The manor was complete with numerous hallways and chambers, and as he walked down one of the larger torch lit halls he glanced at the portraits lining it where generations of Armsters were depicted. All of the portraits displayed men and women wearing elaborate clothing, their faces proud and serious, though the stories he heard about some of his relatives were far from it. One portrait in particular bothered him – it was the largest and undoubtedly the most expensive because it was framed in gold. It was a portrait of him and his father that had been painted when he was ten years old. Joachim remembered sitting in a small red velvet chair, his body statue-like, whilst his father stood reluctantly next to the chair. Lord Armster's right hand was placed rigidly upon Joachim's shoulder, at the painter's request, since the artist had grown rather displeased over the lack of emotion between the father and son. Joachim remembered hearing the painter mutter that 'it was the most solemn portrait he had ever painted since neither of his subjects made nary a smile, like the marbled statues of Greek Gods.'

Except for the faint footsteps of his servants, the entire manor was silent. Joachim gazed momentarily at the portrait, his eyes narrowing upon his father until he forced himself to break his gaze. It was not long before he arrived in the Solar room. A fire crackled in the room's large hearth.

Joachim sank into a chair near the fireplace and gazed into the fire's glowing embers. "That was a complete waste of time." He scoffed. "I should never have gone to that party. As always, I am ridiculed and chastised because of my albinism."

The longer his eyes gazed into the flames, the greater his anger became. Of course, he knew he was simply feeling sorry for himself. Life would never be easy for him. He could not have all the things 'normal' people took for granted.

"Your tea, milord." A maid entered the room and bowed before approaching the table. As soon as she set the tray down, she bowed again and made a hasty step back, distancing herself from the pale young man. Joachim hated the look in her eyes, which unveiled nothing except loathing and dread while in his presence. He considered scolding her for her sullenness, yet knew such a reaction was unavoidable. It would make no difference if he praised her or scolded her. Either way, her eyes betrayed the fact that she held contempt for him; perhaps even to the point of believing that he was a demon. The name 'white devil' wounded him so deeply that he did nothing except give her an emotionless nod before she turned and left.

Another servant entered carrying a stack of books, his voice tense when he announced. "Your books, milord." Joachim waved for the servant to set them on the table next to his chair. With an impatient glare, he snapped. "Stop calling me that! Just because my father died recently does not mean I wish to be addressed as a lord yet!" The servant said nothing in response, only bowing his head meekly in an attempt to avoid the young man's piercing blue eyes. When an uneasy silence filled the room, Joachim released an exasperated sigh."Never mind. I am feeling a bit weary tonight. Please, tell the other servants that they may rest early if they wish. I want nothing except peace and quiet for the remainder of the evening."

The servant bowed and swept out of the room. When both servants were out of sight,

Joachim heard them whispering on the other side of the wall. The young lord rested his chin in his hand while taking a cup of tea in the other. His eyes drifted to the pile of books on his lap, but were soon distracted by the portrait of his father hanging over the mantel of the fireplace. The painting of his father always seemed cold and cruel whenever he looked at it. Lord Armster's face stared at him unemotionally, expressing only indifference in his eyes. "Father…" Joachim whispered under his breath. "If only I could have proven my worth. Perhaps then you would understand…"

Joachim managed to finally pull his gaze away from the portrait and return it to his tea, which rattled in his hand. In surprise, he pressed the cup to his lips, took a small sip and resumed his studies. The book he looked at bore the unmistakable style of his father – that of a man who possessed a precise and eloquent cursive. He skimmed the text with his index finger, absorbed in his father's words.

"Joachim…" Upon sighting the figure his eyes widened while she slowly entered the room, her amethyst dress trailing along with her steps as her bright emerald green eyes stared into his. His eyes tempted him to continue looking at her, however he quickly returned to his books. "I am busy at the moment, Catherine." A soft huff sounded under his breath and he tried to concentrate on the book.

"I see," She replied, a look of disappointment flashing across her face. "Are you too busy to spare a moment with me?"

"Yes." Joachim answered, his voice failing to sound as harsh as he wished it had.

"I have a great deal of reading to do. Please, leave me be."

She walked into the room and seated herself upon the arm of his chair. Locks of her thick raven hair fell down her shoulders and back as she twisted a strand of his ivory hair around her finger. "Don't be so childish," She replied. "What is the matter with you tonight?"

Joachim glared up at her soft face with his icy eyes, before he lifted the pile of books off his lap and slammed them onto the table. "Unexpected or not," he began. "That man was a complete stranger. To attend without a formal invitation was improper."

"Walter was merely acquainting himself. Creightel does not receive travelers very often and it is respectful to be courteous and hospitable to another lord."

Joachim scoffed and rolled his eyes, tapping his fingers against the other arm of the chair while he shifted to distance himself. Catherine simply leaned over toward the table and swiped a sugar cookie from the plate. "Of course." He added in while his eyes locked into hers. "Whenever a stranger appears and claims to be a lord, I will be sure to keep that noble thought in mind."

Catherine returned his glare, teasingly flicking a few crumbs from her cookie at him. "What is that supposed to mean?" she inquired, staring expectantly at him.

Joachim allowed a small smirk to crease the corner of his lip when he pilfered the cookie from her hands and flicked crumbs back at her. "I would no more desire an uninvited stranger at my party than I would in my manor."

"Don't be so uncongenial," She persuaded. "Lord Walter was being sociable and I am sure he meant you no ill will."

Joachim brushed a strand of his hair away from his face, and soon after his hand clenched into a fist that squeezed tightly when her eyes blinked at him several times and she leaned back to continue her wordless stare. "Lord Walter? Why do you address him by that title? You have no proof that he told you the truth!" Her eyes locked onto him with sheer disagreement; all the while he took a small nibble of his cookie before he flicked the rest of the crumbs at her.

"Of all the nerve…" Catherine exclaimed. "Well Lord Joachim Armster, do I get the impression you are jealous?"

"Hardly." He picked up the plate and offered her another cookie."Since what he claims is not tangible, and even if it were, I would not bother to focus my concerns on him."

His smirk faded and he reached to take the teacup again. "You give such perfect answers." She added almost spitefully and took a small bite from her cookie.

"Don't be ridiculous." He noticed he emitted his words more harshly than intended. Catherine shook her head and moved to get off the arm of the chair, but when his hand flew over her wrist and touched it she paused. No words escaped through his lips as he sat staring at her.

"If this is all you wish to discuss than perhaps I should leave you alone to brood, my melancholy Joachim."

A returned sigh parted from his lips and he lowered his eyes to stare at the floor. "Catherine, I meant nothing by it." his hand slowly clasped tighter around her wrist, and when he looked up again she shifted in place before settling once again.

"Very well. I will stay for a little while longer."

Joachim gazed at her softened expression, seeing the dim reflection in her eyes and the long falling curls of her ringlets settle against her soft skin. With a slow gradual movement he released his hand from her wrist but gasped when she suddenly took it in hers and cupped the warm smooth flesh of her palms around it. "Joachim…" she whispered gently. "I think I am the one in need of an apology.

His eyes bore into hers and were unable to blink until he managed to cough out a question. "What do you mean?"

At first she merely continued to gaze at his surprise worn expression though when the silence began to be unbearable her eyes diverted to the portrait above the mantle of the fireplace. "Today was an important day for you. You are to be lord over this manor and our village. It was such a sudden title to claim …"

The youth's eyes froze on her. With an uneasy sigh, he whispered. "Somehow it did not seem sudden enough. I know my father did not want me to inherit his estate. A weak and sickly creature such as I was a failure in his eyes."

Catherine leaned closer to him, her fingers stroking his hair comfortingly. "Everything will be fine." She reassured. "Even under such unexpected circumstances you will prevail. Many in Creightel who admire you."

A slight smile crossed his lips. "Does that include you as well?"

Catherine chuckled, her smile so joyful that his mood lightened. "Of course, Joachim. Once you manage to control that temper of yours, I am certain many more shall like you."

The way she gazed at him made it impossible for him to detect the true meaning of her words. "What happened to Walter, anyway? Did the 'lord' return to his castle?" Joachim inquired, his face contorting into a sneer of disapproval.

The sudden change in subject made her eyes widen with astonishment. "Always asking questions aren't you?" she replied, chuckling. "Lord Walter offered to escort me here, and I accepted it. It was kind of him to go out of his way for my sake. I remember he mentioned that your estate was quite breathtaking. He also expressed a strong inclination to see you again at your convenience, of course."

Joachim furrowed his brow and leaned father back in his chair when a softened scoff escaped him. "Breathtaking? Really, I never imagined Armster Manor to be _breathtaking_. Why would you trust him to escort you here all alone…"

"You are overreacting again. I thought we already finished this topic? Besides, I can care for my own matters and why not trust an honorable lord who provided me with such an enjoyable evening?"

He darted out of his chair away from her hands and placed a hand over his forehead. "I know." He replied. "However, don't I have the right to question what took place at my own party during my absence?" his lips firmed when her eyes of emerald green locked with his of pale blue and their irises froze to reflect mutual glittering of dispute.

"For being at a social event, you certainly were not socializing." Her harsh remark nearly caused his mouth to gape, but he kept his jaw firmly sealed until he murmured under his breath out of an audible listening sound.

"I was trying to. If it were not for Walter…" his voice trailed away and the second he stopped her eyes narrowed.

"If you are going to say something at least say it so I can hear!" When no answer escaped through his pursed lips her eyes narrowed but then softened when he turned away and gazed out one of the windows at the night. "It was your party…and since you did not enjoy yourself your displeasure is understandable. Perhaps this will lighten your mood?"

"What?" he turned and saw her dip her hand into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a small object wrapped in mauve colored cloth. "What is that?" he inquired and stepped toward her when she hopped off the arm of the chair and held it out to him.

"It's a surprise. Take it and you will see." A smile spread across her lips and her eyes twinkled with growing hint when he took the object from her hands and held it in his. From within the silk cloth he heard a small jingle.

"You know I am too old for toys, Catherine." He grinned teasingly while unwrapping the cloth. "You did not have to get me anything; I already received many gifts from my guests." Under his breath, he added. "Your presence is enough of a gift…" her eyes blinked several times at him in anticipation, and when at last the cloth was separated his eyes widened and fell upon the object in his hands. "Oh…Catherine…" his voice quivered slightly and he touched it with his fingertips, his eyes slowly adjusting to the stunning crystal before him. "This…is this a crystal? I can't accept something so valuable -"

"Please take it." Her voice cut in softly and she stepped toward him as he admired the crystal strung by a glittering jeweled chain. "If anyone is to have it, then I want it to be you and no one else. Consider it a present from a childhood friend who has not forgotten the years of happiness we shared together." He gazed at the object until she reached for it and lifted it out of his hands, before placing it around his neck and resting her hands against his chest to gaze at his face with her warm smile. "I know you probably received gifts of greater use and value, but someday soon these events will become memories. I wish that to not be the way it must, but…some things can't be prevented." Her lips formed as if to continue, but only silence filled the room while she gazed at him for a long moment. Then, as if conjuring the right words, her voice softened so much she could barely be heard. "They say some crystals protect those who wear them from evil. I fear what Maurizio spoke of concerning vampires. Though I would never present myself in a situation such as that, I hope that in your daring wills for adventure you will never have to use it."

"Catherine, you know vampires don't exist. They are figments of our wild imaginations that the church uses to spread fear. I thank you for this gift, though…" His voice could not help but soften equally with hers, and his hand mechanically trailed to the object strung around his neck and clasped it securely. Catherine did not relent from looking at him once, even as another silence ensured while only their breaths filled the room. "Well," she replied, at last breaking their silence. "There is no use standing around like this. I am glad you like your gift, even if you claim to not be superstitious. I am sure vampires exist, and if there is one near Dalwood then that explains many things just as Maurizio said-"

"Oh come now," Joachim laughed, his eyes glinting in amusement. "You know Maurizio exaggerates. I fear nothing because I don't have to, as long as I wield a sword then I will let that handle things for me."

He grinned at her and held his head high, but she merely stuck her tongue out at him and flopped down into one of the chairs at the small table. "I shall admit that you are a superior swordsman and you have gained quite a reputation for that. There no shame in being afraid, and even when I was younger don't you remember when I used to refuse to play after sunset? I hate the dark and I always will."

Their eyes locked again, and he brushed away a strand of his silken hair and unable to prevent another small smirk from crossing his lips when he replied. "I have always known that about you, but keep this in mind: Don't be afraid of the dark, be afraid of that which dwells within it. If there is anything that is found in darkness, then I plan on waiting to see what it is. If it means me harm, I will simply kill it."

"I doubt a vampire would be something so simple to kill." Her eyes lingered on him again, but then drifted down to the readied chessboard. "How about a game? Vampires make me uneasy, so if you're into testing your skills then fight me in chess and we'll see how skilled you truly are."

Joachim rolled his eyes and looked at the chess broad, where his side of the board was donned with black chess pieces lined neatly in front of him to make even rows along the checkered board. For a moment he considered her request, and granted it by moving a pawn on the board. "Another simple victory will do me good on a evening like this." She frowned at him and moved one of her knights over the board, as her eyes glanced away from her chess piece and at his smiling expression.

"Don't be overconfident! This time I will give you a good round to set you straight and perhaps calm that little ego trip of yours."

"Ego trip? Not likely, considering every time you and I play I always win. I suppose it comes with my skills as a swordsman." He chuckled when she nearly bolted out of her chair, but instead turned her head away to look out the window.

"Braggart." She muttered just audibly enough for him to hear, and meeting her word with a sharp glance when he moved another of his chess pieces across the board.

"The reason why you lose is because you don't put enough thought into your moves. Chess is a game of strategy, and so one must think in order to win."

Her reply was a loud huff, and she moved another of her chess pieces over the board and directly into a trap Joachim had set for her in ambush. "Are you saying I don't think?" she accused, and he smiled.

"Yes, I am now. Checkmate."

"How can this be? I hate this game anyway. I almost wish we could relive those days of our youth playing hide and seek. That game is more fun than this strategic nonsense."

With another huff she folded her arms across her chest and turned her head away again to allow tendrils of her thick ringlets to fall down her shoulders and bounce whenever she moved. Joachim continued to keep his smile played across his lips. "Stop whining. I beat you just as easily at hide and seek as I do at chess. Besides, we are too old for games like hide and seek now, so chess is a wonderful alternative. Tonight only proves it." His thoughts once again began to drift back to the party, and in unison with them his smile faded when she resumed looking at him again, her eyes glistening in the moonlight streaming through the window next to them.

"You have matured so quickly. I feel as if I have been left behind to always remember those days. You and Walter seem to have a lot in common, serious yet still always bemused by others around you."

"Walter and I have nothing in common." He nearly snapped after she made her move he made his in turn, and firmly slammed one of his knights on the board. Catherine shook her head, her eyes diverting to the black and white tiled board for a moment when she continued.

"I think Lord Bernhard is a gentleman. His red hair is quite a lovely sight – no one else around here has hair so gorgeous. Then there is his armor; it matches perfectly with his hair and his smile is so uplifting…and not to mention his thrilling stories …"

As she spoke he blocked out her words in his mind, musing thoughts over the game in progress. In focus his eyes locked onto his chess pieces and surveyed the board, and although his next move had already been decided he merely occupied himself by keeping his gaze there and away from her dreamy expression. "…Lets not forget the way he dances. Joachim, are you even listening?"

"Hmm?" his eyes darted up from the board as she gave him another reproachful glance and moved one of her remaining pieces on the board quickly. "Perhaps a little ear training will do you good. What am I to do with you? Did slapping you when we were little do absolutely nothing?"

Joachim rolled his eyes and pressed a hand against his cheek, smiling slightly when he remembered. "I do not know, but I would prefer not to feel that again. You slapped quite hard!" A giggle parted from her lips, and whenever even the faintest sound like that emitted from her Joachim noticed her whole face seemed to light up with it. Her eyes drifted away from him to observe the board, and when he took out another of her pieces she shook her head in dismay.

"Ah well…maybe your right on this whole chess idea. You're the warrior not me, so it only makes sense for you to be the victor. Since I am going to lose again anyway, I might as well take a graceful exit so I do not have to see that satisfied smirk you always wear when you win."

She slid her chair back and slowly rose, and with her Joachim got up and stared as she smiled at him and brushed her hands over her dress to smooth out the wrinkles in its amethyst fabric. "You're leaving already? We are in the middle of the game, how can you just retreat like that?" he folded his arms across his chest and continued to stare expectantly, but she waved him away and began to walk from the table to the door. Her steps sounded softly over the carpeting, and he watched the way her graceful form moved as if mimicking more grace than an angel of heaven.

"I am tired." She began, her voice softening with her words to prove her point. "Besides I think we have had enough 'battles' for one evening. My father is expecting me home soon." She turned her head and looked over her shoulder, giving him a gentle smile.

"Very well." Joachim returned her smile and bowed, his white hair splaying against his ashen cheeks. The young man's pale, blue eyes gazed at her softly. "May I walk you home? Since you are afraid of the dark, you will need a lord to protect you."

"I think I can manage _milord_. Walter already told me I have nothing to fear, and I intend on proving that by walking alone tonight."

Joachim's eyes widened as he stepped toward her insistently, his lips curling into a scowl of disapproval. "Catherine! You…you should not do that at this hour. It is not safe, even in Creightel-" he stopped when she whirled to face him and raised her eyebrows in satisfaction.

"Whatever happened to the lord who feared nothing? If there is no such thing as vampires, why are you so worried? If you find no reason to worry, I should not either."

Joachim followed her to the doorway, unwilling to let her leave so easily. "Are you certain? It is no trouble, I insist on escorting you home." His words barely parted from his lips, but he was not surprised when she shook her head and gave him a subtle wink.

"I will be fine, and I will not worry so long as you get some rest tonight. You look more tired than I, and it pains me when you do not take your health seriously enough. Joachim…please just try to sleep and not push yourself beyond your capabilities."

"…Of course Catherine…" he forced a smile in return and took a deep breath into his chest, heaving beneath his armor when another wave of dizziness swept through his body. He managed to pretend like nothing occurred, for the last thing he wished was for her to worry before she departed.

When she chuckled and gave a formal bow, he listened to her still contented words. "So stubborn. Well, I thank you for sharing your evening with me. Good morrow Joachim – or I should now say Lord Joachim Armster." With a sweep of her dress, she turned and walked briskly from the room, and he listened to her steps slowly fade down the hall until at last he stood in silence and alone. His anger over the evening still coursed fresh through him, but dulled considerably in her presence. With a hand clasped over the crystal, he smiled, turned and swept out of the room to bed for the night.


	4. Chapter 4: Dangerous Times

**Chapter IV**

"O Christ Jesus, I acknowledge You King of the Universe. All that has been created has been made for You. Exercise upon me all Your rights. I renew my baptismal promises renouncing Satan and all his works and pomps. Divine Heart of Jesus, I offer You my poor actions in order to obtain that all hearts may acknowledge Your sacred royalty and that thus the reign of Your peace may be established throughout the universe. Amen."

The strong scent of incense filled his nostrils and tickled his nose, and with as much grace as he could muster he rose from his kneeling position and seated himself back onto the pew. For a moment he gazed around him at the arched ceiling high above his head and the beautiful tapestry of angels. Great windows allowed golden light to stream through the ornate colors of stained glass. The aisle in the middle provided a path to the large alter at the front, where priests, monks and the archdeacon proceeded with Sunday mass.

A figure swept down the aisle and sat down next to him in the pew, though he did not look to see whom it was until he felt a sharp jab in his arm. "Joachim…!" he turned his head to see Maurizio staring at him expectantly with his dark chestnut eyes. The man wore fine white robes lined with gold trim, and had since donned his hands with steel gauntlets and shoulder plating, while his boots clanked from their metal coverings.

"What? What do you want? We are in the middle of mass…can't this wait?" Joachim gave him an irritated glare and turned his head to stare at the alter where communion was taking place and the priests were preparing the wine and bread.

"No, this can't! I want to know why you stormed out last night, the whole village is talking about you…" Maurizio's words emitted in a rushing whisper, and when Joachim did not turn to look at him the man jabbed his arm a second time. "Seriously, what is the matter with you? A lord can't just walk out on his own guests, its…completely dishonorable!" he rolled his eyes and returned the knight's gesture by a dull whisper through his lips.

"Now is not the time! If you do not be quiet, Father Genesio is going to hear us and he will make us say a hundred Hail Mary's each!"

"So what? I say what feels like a thousand every week in the name of God. Besides, this gives you an excuse to leave…" Maurizio raised his eyebrows and smiled, and Joachim once again turned to face him, but when his eyes trailed to the long mass in procession he slowly rose from the pew.

"Very well. If this is so important it can't wait…and since you will not leave me alone unless I do, I might as well." Maurizio's smile reflected satisfaction, and once he followed Joachim they returned down the aisle to the doors at the end of the cathedral. "Perhaps I am fortunate you got me out after all…otherwise I would be trapped in mass for the next hour and a half. If I hear another monk sing then I swear my ears shall suddenly deafen themselves." Joachim listened to Maurizio's amused chuckle resound until they departed through the massive wooden doors of the cathedral and emerged onto the sunlit streets of the village.

"Well, let's hope your ears shall not deafen to what many are saying about you."

Joachim watched Maurizio turn and raise his head to catch the cool fresh air outside. Wisps of clouds streaked across the azure blue sky, and the cobblestone roads were active with peasants walking up and down them, some leading horses and carts while others carried bushels of grain and bread. "After all, that scene yesterday evening created quite a stir. What is wrong with Lord Walter? I thought he was a very fascinating character, we get so few other lords around here that I thought you and he would get along quite well."

Joachim huffed under his breath and blew a loud whistle song from his lips, before he turned and shook his head dismissively. "It seems you thought wrong. I do not appreciate being shunned at my own party. If anyone else has problems with that then they are welcome to come and see me."

"Don't be so defensive! I am merely explaining the situation. This is not a ploy you know, being lord gives you responsibility to those who live under your power."

Not even the bright sunlight could warm Joachim's expression, which firmed into a displeased grimace as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight streaming all around him. His pale ivory hair fell around his face and shoulders when he turned away from Maurizio again at the sound of hooves clopping over the stone. "I know my responsibilities." He replied dully. "Though this status I have is not by my choice. I am not my father, so people can't expect me to rule using the same traditional methods." His eyes brightened when they fell upon the silver colored stallion trotting toward him, and with a loud whinny the horse's pace increased until its muzzle brushed against his shoulder. "I grow weary of everything centering around tradition and religion. You can burn me at the stake for saying that, but to me there is far more than those two insignificant things." Joachim ran his hands down his stallion's smooth neck and patted it softly with his hands, but Maurizio seemed far from finished on the topic. In determined convince, the knight's voice carried again.

"Your not becoming one of those heretic types are you? God is what men like me fight in the name of, and I still would be if it was not for that cursed shoulder wound of mine! If your so concerned about Father Genesio, if he even caught a whiff of what you said he would make you say five thousand Hail Mary's! I bet after that you would never say a word of this again."

When Joachim turned and looked at him in irritation, Maurizio returned it with a slow smirk that swept over his lips and added to the fresh twinkle glistening in his eyes.

"Oh…" the man continued sheepishly. "I know what else your eyes are caught on like a fish in a net. Perhaps it is that young gypsy girl whom you know all too well with the raven hair and emerald eyes, and who wears purple more often than our queen-"

"You cad, that is none of your concern!" Joachim snapped at him and moved along the side of his horse to hop upon its back, but Maurizio merely shrugged and strode away to attend to his horse in turn.

"You always say that whenever I bring this up." He remarked. "Yet, you know as well as I that she is not from the same…background. Perhaps you best change your focus, Joachim? What about that lovely Rose Hawthorn, I heard your father had been preparing to make a match between you two-"

Joachim huffed again and mounted his horse, nearly tempted to chase him down until Maurizio mounted his and rode up to meet him again. When their two horses were side by side, Joachim steered Cojiro down the street to take the path returning to his manor. His eyes darted away from his friend and to all the people walking about around them.

"Are you ignoring me?" Maurizio inquired, and his tone sharpened slightly upon no response. "I was merely speculating when I saw that crystal around your neck. Catherine gave that to you did she not?"

"Yes, she did. It was a birthday gift." He glanced down at the jewel. His heart leapt at the sight of it and continued to pound against his ribcage the moment Maurizio gave him a quick wink.

"I can scarcely believe she gave you that, what a lovely object it is. May I hold it for a moment?" he outstretched his gauntlet-covered hand. Joachim stared at it and then at the crystal he wore, his eyes indecisive until listening to his friend's persisting curiosity. "Don't you trust me? I am a knight, I would not steal it from you, I just want to take a closer look."

The young lord lifted his gaze from the jewel to Maurizio's eyes, but his hands mechanically reached for the jeweled chain supporting the crystal and lifted it away from his body. In a moment he saw his friend's hand enclose around it tightly and withdraw it toward him, his finger skimming the glittering surface that reflected prisms from the sun's radiating light. "Be careful with it." Joachim warned darkly and his eyes did not leave the man for a moment as Maurizio remarked.

"It is quite lovely, surely worth quite a lot of money as well. You're a lucky man to have gotten this from her!" Joachim wordlessly took it back from him and placed it around his neck again, satisfied by weight of the crystal within his guard once more.

"Valuable, maybe. That matters little to me, it is the thought behind this gift that is important."

"How noble." Maurizio chuckled loudly as their horses drew up the path toward the manor. With a brief gaze at the fields on either side of the fences lining the road, he leaned back on his horse and placed his hands behind his head. "I wonder what she was thinking when she gave you that. Huh, I know what I would be thinking if I got something so pretty from a pretty lady…"

Joachim furrowed his brow, and before he even thought about it he steered Cojiro closer and shoved the knight firmly with his hands. In a second his friend became so astounded he cried out before losing his balance and sliding off his horse's back and onto the firm ground beneath him. A loud clatter echoed into the early morning air, and Joachim held back a laugh when he halted his horse and watched Maurizio look up at him and rasped in spite. "What was that for? I was just joking, you take things too seriously!"

"Let that be lesson for you to simply shut that mouth of yours. To think a knight would be more suitable on the ground instead of on his horse." Joachim smirked and waited for Maurizio to get up, brush the dirt off his robe and remount with a newly present glare. The man did so reluctantly, and did not hide his displeasure. "Now look who's the_ cad _milord." The knight replied in pronunciation of every word with a firm articulate tone. "I cannot see the humor in what you did! Someday I shall take vengeance upon you, and when you least expect it I will ride by and shove you off that steed of yours in return just when she is there to watch! Ha! Then everyone will laugh at you and I will join in it." Maurizio's lighthearted laugh soon filled the air, and Joachim allowed a chuckle to part from his lips. "You're so childish. I will have to watch my back I suppose, but I doubt you would get that satisfaction anytime soon-"

"Wait a moment! Is that your vassal coming up the road here?" Maurizio raised his head and looked before them up the cobblestone, where Joachim saw a man running in their direction donned in a red tunic. "Why, yes that is he. I wonder what his hurry is on this fair afternoon?" Joachim could not contain the hint of concern within his voice when the vassal did not cease running as if frightened considerably. "Milord! Milord!" Kyran's voice carried in the air, which in turn made both men halt their horses again and stare in disbelief. "What is going on here? Kyran, I thought you were attending to my studies for when I returned?" he stared at the older vassal hurrying along and panting profusely, though despite his age he arrived quicker than either men anticipated. "Lord Joachim! You best hurry back from whence you came!"

"Why?" Joachim cocked his head, while Maurizio raised his eyebrows and shifted on his horse. Kyran abstractedly pointed down the road they had just traveled. "A murderer is afoot! I just got word of a discovery of a body south of here…apparently the victim of a demon vampire!"

Maurizio's jaw dropped, but Joachim merely waved his hand and rolled his eyes. "You can't be serious? From what I just saw, no one seems to be all that worried. Are you sure it was not some drunkard passed out on the road?" his eyes hardened the moment Kyran shook his head again.

"Yes, I am certain. I swear I got word just moments before you arrived from one of the villagers. You best go immediately if you wish to see for yourself." For a moment Joachim remained still on his horse, his eyes staring down at his vassal until he felt a sharp tap on his arm.

"We should see to this matter. I told you vampires are around, but of course you never believe me…" Maurizio's words sounded almost sarcastic, his eyes staring as Joachim sighed and urged his horse to turn.

"Very well. I will see to this incident. The murderer will be found and brought to justice, but if this is in any way some sort of joke…"

"I assure you it is not!" Kyran backed away slowly, nearly trembling while the lord turned his horse around. Joachim kicked gently with his heels and his horse began to gallop down the cobblestone, its hooves pounding like drums against the ground. "Is this even possible?" Joachim called while the wind blew against his face and ruffled his ivory hair. "Creightel never gets murders…we are too small a village for that. If it's true than it's unheard of…"

"There is always a first." Maurizio replied, his dark eyes uneasily glued to the path in front of them. "To think a vampire might have been here. I have never seen the victim of a vampire before-"

"If there is a murderer about, I must protect this village and find the culprit responsible." Joachim narrowed his icy blue eyes and turned his head to stare directly before him, where he noticed word had gotten around more quickly than expected. People milled about like lost sheep on the roads staring at him when he passed or whispering among each other in pending bewilderment. Together he and the knight tore through the town and emerged on the other side. After traveling about a quarter of a mile, s a small group of peasants became visible ahead.

"That must be it." Joachim brushed away a strand of hair that flew against his face when he turned his head, his pale face glistening in the sunlight like snow. "What are those people doing there milling about like vultures? How much interest can a dead body be?"

From the corner of his eye, he saw Maurizio shrug. The young lord's eyes widened when the group wordlessly stepped aside to form a path for his horse. Joachim slowed Cojiro to a halt and hopped off, catching his balance when a dizzy spell attempted to consume him again. The young man's serious face gave no indication of it, however, and he approached the scene without hesitation. "What is going on here? Which one of you made the discovery?" He stopped a few paces in front of them and waited.

A short, husky man stepped forward. "It was I milord." He said, lowering his eyes whilst making an awkward bow. "I was on my way delivering some freshly butchered meat to Dalwood, when I suddenly came across this horrid sight…" The man's voice trailed away. Joachim stared from him to Maurizio when the knight appeared at his side, his voice carrying over the crowd of murmuring people. "So you found that body there?" The knight asked, a rather obvious question. "Fear not! We are here to assist you in this matter. It seems a vampire's work is at hand-"

"You must have a brain made of tin to match your armor, if you assume the people will feel better hearing about 'vampires' again." Joachim muttered while approaching the body. A dead young man, perhaps in his mid twenties, was sprawled out on the ground.

There were no flesh wounds on his head or face and no visible signs that he had been beaten or stabbed. The dead man's mouth was partially agape, the locks of his black hair tossed about his face and caked with dried blood. He wore simple clothing: a pair of white britches covered mostly by a plain brown tunic and shabby-looking boots.

"That man does not look like he died quickly. It almost seems as if the murderer had fun killing him, for why would they not simply stab him and get it over with?" Maurizio observed, since a look of horror seemed to be plastered across the dead man's face – frozen there the moment death took his soul.

Joachim ignored Maurizio's comment and crouched on the ground near the body, almost intimated to touch it until he saw a swollen bite mark on the neck. "Odd…what is that?" he whispered and leaned forward to touch it, but quickly pulled away when an icy cold shudder swept through his body. "Those marks…they look familiar…" Joachim gazed at the swollen flesh, which was still red but showed no signs of blood around it – two clean puncture marks were the only indication of the man's death.

"See, I told you it was a vampire." Maurizio grinned at him but he rolled his eyes and gazed at the wound until another onlooker stepped forward.

"Milord, there is no blood pooling from that man. He was a mere serf trying to grow a crop of wheat in his small field, and there was no reason for anyone to kill him – he was quite a kind fellow actually."

Joachim looked up at the voice matching the words, where he saw a middle aged man staring at him with eyes as wide as an owl's and an awkward beak-like nose to match. A loud huff parted from his lips and he moved to stand up, but listened to Maurizio again.

"No blood? Well, we shall need proof. Joachim – cut his flesh with your dagger. Then we can see if what they say is true."

"Don't be foolish!" Joachim nearly jumped when a dagger was thrust next to his cheek without warning.

Maurizio gave him an expectant look. "Use mine. I want to get to the bottom of this as much as you do."

Joachim sighed and grabbed the dagger, looking at how the small blade gleamed in the light as he slowly eased it toward the man's body. The man's muscles had since hardened, giving the sign death occurred at least a few hours earlier, and due to the rigid effects he had difficulty holding it long enough to push up the sleeve. "Utterly foolish. This makes no sense! He could have been strangled or died of natural causes, and all of you resort to a vampire because he has two little bites on his neck. It could have been a bat or some sort of other animal, or poison or self inflicted wounds…" his voice rambled and trailed away when he found no answer to his objection as he pressed the edge of the dagger against the dead man's wrist. A gasp sounded from his lips when he withdrew the weapon and looked at the blade – its metallic surface perfectly clean. "What?" The young lord exclaimed in surprise. "I must not have cut deeply enough…" Again, he slid the blade over the skin, pressing harder. Joachim examined the man's wrist, before pulling away when the skin looked as dry and shriveled as a wilted grain crop.

"There is not a drop of blood in him! Now are you convinced it was a vampire?" Maurizio leaned over his shoulder and examined the clean dagger. Joachim abruptly handed it back to him and rose to straighten his posture. "What should we do?" One of the onlookers questioned.

"Nothing can be done as of now." Joachim replied calmly, trying to rid his mind of the bloodless dagger. "Return to Creightel and avoid traveling down this path unless it is absolutely necessary. I intend to look into this matter further but with no information, witnesses, or a motive it will take some time."

The group of peasants stared at him wordlessly, though when his eyes diverted to the knight, Maurizio sheathed his dagger. "Do not worry, everything will be in order." The man soothed, taking notice of his lord's uneasy glance. "Perhaps we should burn the body. They say when a vampire attacks its victim the body will turn into an undead zombie-"

"Don't get into those kinds of myths! If we burn the corpse then we have nothing for evidence in case we need a physical examination…"

Joachim fell silent when he realized he was the only one objecting amongst the group of people. He felt Maurizio nudge him when the owl-eyed man spoke up. "None of us want to take that risk milord! There is a bite mark in his neck and it would make everyone slightly more at ease if the body is promptly disposed of."

Joachim rolled his eyes in exasperation, but when no one spoke to defend his whim he waved a hand away at them. "Fine. Get a cart over here and take the body to the fields where it will be set afire. If all of you want to become slaves to superstitions be my guest."

"This not superstition, milord." The man replied, his voice taking on a slightly impatient tone. "There is a vampire at work. Our village has been peaceful and free of evil, and if there is a vampire wandering around it must be stopped!"

Joachim held up a hand and growled under his breath while he felt his eyes burn upon staring back at the spectators. "Enough of this foolishness." He waved the man away, his eyes narrowing. "I think the murderer is among us and not the 'undead' as you so wish to believe." He huffed loudly and turned to his horse and mounted it as Maurizio swiftly followed suit. "I shall hear no more about vampires." The young lord added, his voice firm despite the skepticism he was beginning to feel inside himself. "You are merely scaring people with that nonsense and I will not tolerate it. Now then, all of you go about your businesses. This is my concern and I will see to it as soon as I can."

A low murmur was all that met his words when he turned his horse and galloped off to return to the town. Maurizio followed and kept pace at his side, though it was evident a wave of concern reflected in the knight's eyes. "Joachim, try not over simply the matter." He began, his voice hesitant. "I personally would not overrule vampires as being responsible…especially concerning a bite mark on the man's neck. How can you dismiss that?"

"Easily." Joachim sneered, exasperated by the topic. "The murderer could have inflicted them with a knife or some sort of weapon, so people like you would think it was a vampire. My mind is open to other possibilities, but not ones that are based on rumors and legends." Joachim stared ahead down the road and sighed when he felt the sun's warm rays shine over him as if reassuring the day was not completely ruined. The sun still radiated its golden light and the sky continued to expose its cerulean blue color between the wisps of white clouds. "My, you are in quite a mood this morning!" Maurizio smiled. "Perhaps you should stop by the tavern this evening and join me for a drink. By then you would have cooled off and the day's troubles would melt away…"

"I don't drink ale. I prefer the taste of wine, and I also have some documents to sign and my father's old parchments to study. If I take any more evenings off to go drinking with you, I am not honoring my title." Joachim rolled his eyes.

"Oh come now! After that little scene at your party, people are going to think you have become a recluse! At least socialize, it's the least you can do to right yourself." He stared into the blinking auburn colored eyes of his friend and at the smooth contour of his cheeks that defined his already noble appearance. It was a typical air for a knight, and not surprising since he had been that way from the day they met.

Joachim pursed his lips in thought but when he felt his friend's impatience begin to rise he at last gave an answer. "Very well. I will join you this evening at the tavern. Don't expect me to stay long, though."

Maurizio beamed at him and leaned over on his horse to give him a hearty pat on the back. "There's the Joachim Armster I have always known! I assure you I will patrol the streets to see if I can find any information on that murder. It would best if it were solved as quickly as possible."

Joachim allowed a sigh to part from his dying lips, and with a last gaze up at the beautiful azure sky he guided his horse back to the manor. The obviousness of his desire to solve the murder as well made words to say it less enticing, for he expected Maurizio to already know his reply.


	5. Chapter 5: Blood Feud

**Author's Note: **Hello, this is **LadyArmster** bringing you more chapters! Sorry for being so slow to update, I was on holiday and without internet access. I wanted to update as soon as I returned. If you are reading this story I would really like to hear from you. I always thank my reviewers and appreciate feedback. :) If you are concerned about the length of the chapters/story...it is supposed to be a novel. I am trying to emphasize character/plot development. This story WILL be updated on a weekly basis. I want to know what people think of it so don't hesitate to leave me constructive criticism or positive comments (if you like it).

P.S. if you hate original characters, my apologies...but Konami didn't write a background story for Joachim. The characters you know and love will be in my story (Leon, Mathias, Sara, etc.) later on.

Author's Thanks:

To **Rahar Moonfire**: Thank you for reading my story and reviewing it! I am glad to know you like it and are interested in where it's going. I will keep updating as often as I can. You are the first person to review it and I appreciate the fact you took the time to do so. I noticed you wrote a story on Hector and I am planning to check it out soon (^-^) I was worried no one was reading this story and wondered if it was because it's going to be pretty long...but since I already wrote it 5 years ago I'm just editing a bunch of stuff and uploading it. So updates WILL come often in case people are worried it won't ever be finished. I promise it will be :) I take writing seriously and spent a lot of time on Joachim's background in hopes that he will seem more realistic and that people reading will begin to understand his personality. Since very little was done with Joachim and Walter in LoI, I had to do a lot of thinking in order to figure out what might have happened between them. Stay tuned.

**Please Note**: This chapter is a **FLASHBACK** to Joachim's early childhood. Horray, it's actually short, too! ;)

**Chapter V**

**~* FLASHBACK*~**

Night had fallen upon the great hall. Joachim stood near the middle of the floor, a sword in hand and his body set at a battle stance. With quick precise swings he guided the sword with his hand and sliced the air with its fine blade. Using movements that resembled a sort of practiced dance, he stepped hastily across the floor, forming his feet into appropriate stances to go alongside his swings. His long robe swished with his steps, and his feet tapped effortlessly over the marble floor. Streams of moonlight flooded through the windows lining the hallway, illuminating enough light so he could see. Like pale blue crystals his eyes glittered in the darkness and a smile pressed across his face when he slashed the air again with the sword and glanced at the starry night sky beyond the windows. Several more times he swatted the air with his sword, but suddenly stopped when another wave of dizziness flooded through him and forced him to pause and stand in place to rest. Beads of perspiration trickled down the side of his youthful innocent face, and his chest heaved breathless pants into the silent night air.

"Joachim." A voice suddenly shattered the silence, and whirled to face the doorway of the grand hall where silhouetted was the tall familiar figure. Their eyes locked wordlessly for a long moment, until he heard the man continue in a calm icy tone. "You did not go to me today, nor dine with me tonight. I thought a loyal son would greet his father after arriving home from a long absence."

He stared with trembling lips, and heard the softened footsteps of his father's boots sound over the floor. "I did not go to you," he began, his voice slightly shaken the longer their eyes locked. "Because you did not summon my presence. You never do, so that is why I did not go to you." His voice firmed when the man came within a few feet of him, and his form finally was revealed under the moon's light.

The man was tall, able bodied and firm, his eyes unblinking to match the straight lined expression crossed over his lips while leaving the faintest hint of a slightly furrowed brow. "Do not be brash with me, boy." His father's voice cut sharply into the air, and rose when Joachim responded by swishing his robes with clear indifference. "The battle is finished and this is what I am to return to? A son who has developed a sharpened tongue that is supposed compensation for his discourteous demeanor? What shame you bring our family by behaving like one of those heathen bohemians."

"I bring our family no shame." Joachim retorted smoothly, his voice remaining calm despite the pounding of his heart against his chest when his father's lip twitched. "Do you expect me to abide by your demands whenever it pleases you? If you wish for company, then seek it with the servants of perhaps your lady _friends_. I am preoccupied at the moment."

A cool laugh escaped through his father's somber lips. The lord walked forward and placed a hand on the young man's head, his fingers ruffling his silky white hair. "So, you have also developed a streak of insolence." Joachim listened to his father address him and looked up into his pale blue eyes that glinted warningly. "I have risked my life to protect this land and support your existence here. I expect you to be gracious and obedient when I return during my time of rest."

Joachim's lips curled into a sneer. "You are not here enough to ask something like that of me." He glared up at his father and slowly took a step back, however he felt the man's fingers suddenly grasp his hair in his hand and yank on it powerfully.

"Be silent!" the man's voice firmed when Joachim gave a cry and struggled against his grasp, however the young child was held firmly in place. "How unsurprising it is for me to know that you have learned little during my absence. I suppose, my son, I should not expect a bed-ridden invalid like you to accomplish much." With a fixated gaze, his eyes trailed to the sword clasped in his son's hand. Joachim felt his small fingers tighten around the handle of the blade, which suddenly became heavy in his grasp when another wave of dizziness nearly caused him to drop it on the floor. "You know as well as I what you are expected of. The battlefield is far from where you shall be when you come of age. Weakness is unbecoming for such honorable pursuits, and it is a pity for talent to go to waste."

"Waste? What do you mean? I am strong, I will someday fight in a battle and prove your speculations false!" Joachim's eyes blazed and he nearly raised his hand containing the sword at his father, however with equal swiftness the man let go of his hair.

"You will do as I ask you. Your life is granted here because of me, and you are to honor me." Joachim continued to stare up at him, his small frame paling in the presence of his father's straight and firm stance that loomed over him. The man had a sleek build and smooth features that reflected much in his son's face. With slow easing movements, he bent over to meet the child's eye level. For a moment his lips did not move, until his hand trailed over his son's forehead and his fingers skimmed the smooth surface of his flesh. "You are quite persistent and valiant for being so young."His father's eyes narrowed slightly upon him, but with a calm perception his eyes glinted in the moonlight to meet his darkening words. "A child such as you is to do no less than simple tasks permitted by your condition. Sword practice will remain just that – practice. If you did not spend your days running about with that heathen gypsy girl then you would not be so easily stricken by your condition." Joachim lowered his head and stared listlessly at the floor, but without hesitation the man's hand slipped to his chin and forced his face to look at his once again. "You are to look at me when I address you, boy. I thought I had taught you better than that, but yet again you show not the slightest air for mannerisms."

The boy's lips began to tremble when his father's eyes narrowed, however he took in a deep breath and managed to spill in a voice choked with tears. "You taught me nothing! It was the servants and the teachers who raised me and gave me the gifts of speaking, reading, writing and manners. Why can I not have a dream of being a swordsman? I have already surpassed that man you paid to teach me, so why do you take no interest in my skills?"

"You have none!" his father's voice rose, and Joachim felt the man pull away from him and nearly shove him away when he stormed passed him and stood with his back facing him to gaze out the window. "You abilities make no difference – you have nothing to offer me in return for existing except your sickness." Joachim's eyes widened and his mouth gaped, but when his father turned and stared at him he did not cease there. "Arabella…she wanted a child so much I could not deny her. I shall honor her wish through you and no more than that." The man's gaze lingered on him, reflecting like mirrors into his mind. With slow, heavy steps he walked the length of the grand hall toward the large fireplace at the end, not seeming to notice his son in close follow. The boy watched the tall figure stand before the darkened fireplace, and look up at a painted portrait suspended over the mantle in a gold frame depicting a fair young woman with glittering blue eyes and soft long golden hair.

"I don't understand." Joachim finally spoke, his voice barely a whisper. "I never knew her…"

"Of course not." He startled when his father whirled and faced him again, his eyes narrowed in defense. "So her name is not to be spoken from your lips. Ever. A sickly son is of no benefit. I suppose I must see to it you are wed quickly when you are of age, to prevent such a travesty that you have already threatened our clan."

Joachim continued to stare up at the man in disbelief, his eyes so young with youth and innocence that at first he had not understood what was told to him. After all, he was merely ten years of age, but even so the realization had dawned on him swiftly and entered his observant and thoughtful mind. "Are you saying the only reason why I exist is to continue the Armster name? Do you hate me that much to disown me? Why not, if I fail either way-"

"No, I would not think that wise." Lord Zeviean's voice softened, his eyes seemed to melt as if a fire had warmed through part of their icy exterior. "A son, no matter how weak or strong, is valuable. Your mother gave you your name, before she died holding you in her arms. You are to attend to your studies instead of flaunting about in childish play. I will hear no more from you tonight. I have made my decision in your own best interests."

Joachim's eyes widened into saucers from his father's command. With visible objection, a growl sounded through his throat. "I will do whatever I want! There is no way you can stop me, not you or my sickness!"

"Foolish boy, of course I can stop you if I wish it! My mere word is how things shall be, and if you continue to defy it, there will be consequences." The man's gaze met his relentlessly, and Joachim's small frame abruptly took a small step back when his father moved toward him with stealth like steps. "You are weak. You are ill. You are my only heir, and the last of our generation. I will not allow a child of merely ten years to make such foolish decisions when so much relies on your survival." His father stopped when he came within a foot of him, and stared down at him non-blinkingly as if searching through his soul. Joachim had watched the man's smooth white hair fall around his face when he shook his head and turned to walk back toward the door. Lord Zaeviean Armster had the true build of a warrior, which had not been transferred to his son at birth. Tears stung Joachim's cheeks when the man gave him a last lingering gaze before departing out of the grand hall. "I will not follow your word father. I promise you that." He whispered under his breath once the man left, determined to hold himself to his word.


	6. Chapter 6: Shadows

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Joachim, Walter, or any LoI characters or Castlevania.

**Author's Note:** Yes, this is a long chapter... (T_T) but hopefully you will find it interesting. I tried to edit it as much as possible but if you still find grammatical errors, my apologies.

**Chapter VI**

Joachim leaned over the large oak desk in his father's old study. It was a small room with large windows lining the back wall, providing a flood of natural light to give it an airy, open feeling. It was a place he spent hours in, arranging papers and documents to send to neighboring lords and the king. His eyes gazed with unrepressed attention down at the parchments spread out before him on the desk. "Do you wish to go over any more decrees milord? I have also prepared a stock list on our grain productions for this season; it seems our crops are flourishing from God's fair weather this year. Crop sales have risen at least ten percent and are expected to continue."

Joachim looked up at Kyran sitting in a chair in front of his desk, holding a long piece of paper that was covered in inky black handwriting that nearly dragged on the floor. "No, not now." He replied, immediately dismissing the suggestion. "I am still assessing the Pope's requests to send more of my knights to the east." He murmured back while reading the documents on his desk, his frail body hunched over as he wrote. The young man's observant eyes looked up from the parchment when Kyran said.

"Oh yes, that trifling war we are fighting. Lord knows we will be the victors in that bloody battle, though how many men is our Pope demanding from us now? I have already sent hundreds to the east."

"Yes, the Pope is aware of that, however he is also requesting reparations for the war. The only way I could provide the sums he requires is if I raised the taxes in my region." Joachim's brow furrowed as he continued signing the various documents, and afterward bound them together with string in preparation to be sent away. The warm early evening sun shone through the windows behind him and continued to warm him gently, making his work less unbearable. "Peasants don't like paying taxes, and most are already struggling to survive already. It would be unwise to make them pay another wage when they work so hard to earn a living."

As if struck by lightning Kyran looked up from his long piece of parchment, his eyes staring so fixatedly Joachim was even more determined than usual to ignore him. "Why is that an issue?" The vassal replied brusquely. "Your obligations are to the Lord's will, not necessarily the people. They always complain because they want to keep everything for themselves-"

"Do they not have some entitlement to that?" Joachim found himself pressing the quill harder against the parchment he was writing on, causing the ink to blotch in places. "If they do not pay the Pope has no money for the war and you do not have any status or wealth as a lord. Besides, after the war you can lower the taxes again, but you cannot leave those brave knights and soldiers without weaponry and food supplied by the money the Pope gets from villages like yours. It is all connected milord, whether it is to be liked or not." Kyran's statement rang in his ears, though in thought his hand lightened on the quill.

"True…but why doesn't the church supply that? They are richer than the people and can afford it without the same amount of risk. The peasants do not have that luxury at their disposal, for they need the money to feed their families." Joachim ran a hand through his ivory hair, his eyes contracting under the setting sun and locking onto Kyran when the vassal looked up at him again.

"Why does it matter to you anyway?" Kyran inquired while quickly rolling up the parchment. "You are exempted from taxes. Why should it matter if they have to pay? Let the people pay in your name so that the Pope can reward you for serving him well."

"I might be serving him, but there are many more people I am not serving. The Pope is a single man, and without his people he would be nothing – I would be nothing. I am trying to be a reasonable lord, not like those gluttonous scoundrels in other districts that suck every piece of gold from their subjects like maggots." He breathed deeply through his nostrils to try and remain civil amidst the man's criticisms.

"You rely too much on your personal feelings. Why, your father never-" Joachim growled and held up a hand, his very tone demanding silence when his body flew from his chair and caused several pieces of parchment to flutter onto the floor. "I will hear no more on this vassal! I am not Lord Zaeviean but I will consider your advice."

Kyran lowered his head to the floor and rose with him before giving a deep bow. "I apologize for my outburst milord. Do forgive me, it shall not happen again."

"Never mind it, just remember that unlike most peasants, you wear fine clothing and have bread on the table. I hope you realize that even with your knights, the peasants outnumber us three to one. Displeasing them will only lead to unneeded conflict."

Kyran's eyes continued to gaze into his, but his attention swiftly diverted to the servant awaiting him in the doorway. "Yes?" Joachim raised his head to look over the vassal at the young fellow standing in wait. For a moment the servant fidgeted in place, until stepping closer into the room. "Milord…I apologize if I am interrupting…" Joachim forced a smile, but it was made difficult under Kyran's watchful gaze. "Do not apologize. What do you wish to say?" The orangey glow emanating from the sun shone upon his face and warmed his cheeks as the pale blue of his eyes sparkled in the dim light.

"Milord, one of your serfs would like a word with you, if you please. If you do not wish to see him I will send him away at once."

"A serf requests to see you? Why bother with such dregs, simply send him away for we have more pressing matters to deal with-" Kyran attempted to interject but Joachim held up a hand for silence.

"I would like to see him. Please, send him in."

"Milord, you're wasting precious time." Kyran continued persistently. "A serf has no business seeing you, let alone speaking with you-"

Joachim returned Kyran's words with a dark warning scowl that made the man fall silence once more. He leaned back in his chair and looked toward the doorway when a small, thin man, appeared wearing a dirty ragged tunic and stockings. His eyes glinted under the dimming sunlight.

"Welcome." Joachim beckoned the man into room with his hand. "You wished to see me? What can I do for you…?"

"My name is Hans, milord." The young man spoke, his voice soft and timid while Joachim nodded and continued to smile with acceptance.

"Very well Hans. What is your reason for coming to see me this early evening? Is there a problem in the fields?"

The serf shook his head and twiddled his fingers with unease, and it was the Joachim noticed he held a small dirty purse that jingled softly with coins. "No, milord, your crops are very well indeed but I have come for another reason. I wish to pardon me by granting my humble request, and oh it would be such a wondrous thing if you would."

Joachim raised his eyebrows and leaned forward, his elbows shifting to rest on his desk while he kept his hands still folded in front of him. "A request? What kind of request?" his question made the serf swallow hard and without hesitation the young man fell to his knees on the floor and extended the purse into view.

"Milord, I know I am not worthy of anything from you for you have housed, clothed and provided for me in the name of your father – God rest his soul. But I have little money to offer you; this is all I can give if you would grant me the privilege of marrying. I have found a woman, whom I care for more than life itself, and I wish to make her my beloved wife…but only by your permission. I promise to continue working hard for you and to do whatever you ask, even fight in the east if you so wish."

"Oh, is that so?" Joachim's smile broadened as he signaled the man to get up. Joachim observed the tattered figure standing before him, so afraid yet bolded by his intentions. Deep within his mind the very way of being bold about love strung at his heart and soul, though he ridded himself of it to glance at Kyran's disapproving glower. "Who am I to say you can or cannot marry?" He began, hearing a surprised cough escape from his vassal in response. "If you want to marry her do as you will. I have no quarrel with it. Keep your money and make her happy. Take this as my wedding present to you and your beloved." He rose from his chair amidst the utterly astounded gasp that parted from the serf's lips, and reached into the pocket of his robe where he withdrew a handful of gold coins. "Spend this well, and take your leave to wed her." He thrust the coins into the serf's hands, which clutched around them to meet his eyes alit with sheer unrepressed joy.

"Milord! Thank you kindly! Someday I will repay the favor you granted to me, that I promise you!" Without another word the man got to his feet and bounded out of the room. Joachim watched with still a smile upon his lips, though it was short lived.

"Why did you do that?" Kyran's voice rose, his face turning a shade of scarlet red in rage. "Serfs have no status, you _own_ them! You cannot simply grant them a privilege like that without question! Marriage is for people with status and money, not for poor beggars like them. I hope you are ready to expect hoards of your serfs approaching and asking for favors from now own, for that gesture is what you have wrought upon yourself!"

Kyran bolted from his chair and whirled to face him where he stood, though Joachim turned his back and looked out the large windows to view the fields in the distance. He closed his eyes and pictured the smiling face of Catherine as effortlessly as if she were standing at his side. The image quickly faded when he felt his vassal's glaring eyes still lingering on him.

"You see, Kyran, I don't want to own anyone. If you are the God-loving man you claim to be, you would realize God made everyone equal. Of course, the church never follows that, but I intend to with or without your approval."

"But milord, the church would not approve of your methods – I certainly do not. Your father was a more tactful man, he followed the Pope's will and fought bravely in battle – he also ensured serfs were put in their place…"

An impatient sigh escaped through Joachim's lips as he turned and gazed at the elderly man. "I am not my father, Kyran." He murmured under his breath. "Armster Manor is my obligation now and I will do my utmost to maintain it. If I were not ill, I would be battling in the east alongside countless other lords and knights, not languishing here filing parchment and fretting over crops. You are to continue your work. Do not even consider disturbing me unless it is about the murder that occurred yesterday." Without another word he swept out of the study room and down the hallway of the manor, and since he was on the second floor he need not go far before he reached the room at the end of the hallway and entered the massive great hall of his home.

He needed to get away from business, politics and economics. Such issues had never interested him since he had not expected to become a lord so quickly. In fact, he did not think he would live long enough to inherit his father's estate. Joachim gazed at the large windows lining the great hall, whilst the golden rays of the sun streaming through cast a beautiful glow across the marble floor. The ceiling was covered with beautiful tapestry depicting angels, and the hall echoed of a strange deserted silence that seemed to consume him along with it. Joachim had no idea what he would do with the hall. He did not feel like holding another party. The dining table that used to remain in the hall had been removed, leaving a wide-open space where he spent his leisure hours practicing.

Joachim unsheathed his sword and held the glinting blade with one hand, his steps so light and quick that they gave the illusion of dancing. The young man moved, striking and dashing to one side when he imagined himself against a warrior knight in the heat of battle. The sun cascaded on him when he passed one of the hall's great windows and felt its light encircle around him like a heavenly glow. No matter how hard he attempted to focus his mind on his practice routine, his eyes darted to the world outside when his thoughts wandered to Catherine. Hardly could he imagine having to ask someone else to wed, or even being denied that right to bond with the woman he would love enough to become his beloved wife. There was but one whom he wanted that would make him complete without the other things, one whom he would give up every possession he owned to have and to hold.

Perhaps someday that one would be his - if his heart gave him the courage to ask.

* * *

The night enveloped Creightel in a thick fog. Joachim took in the fresh evening air as Cojiro clopped along down the road. The horse's silvery coat gleamed under the pale moonlight and the sounds of crickets filled the air. The familiar dizzy feeling swept through him as he rode, though his hands gripped Cojiro's mane securely as he relaxed under the cover of darkness. He heard his horse emit a loud snort from its nostrils, and his eyes flew open to see the brightly lit windows of the tavern near where the horse stopped. He hopped onto the ground and reached into the pocket of his robe, pulling out a handful of carrots. The horse's soft muzzle quickly dipped into his hand and crunched down on the delicious treats. After giving the animal a final pat on the neck, he turned and entered through the door.

"Joachim, over here!" Maurizio's voice swiftly met him the second he stepped through the door and into the warm musty atmosphere of the tavern. Loud conversation filled he room, and the tavern was brightly lit and consumed with constant activity and laughter. Ahead of him was the bar where drink glasses and various bottles of gin and tonic lined the entire back wall. Numerous wooden tables and stools were set over the main floor and the entire tavern was crowded with people. He looked over at the table in the back corner where Maurizio was seated, but his feet locked in place when his eyes saw the figure sitting on the far side of the table that faced him. "Joachim, are you just going to stand about there? Come on over, your guest is back to pay a visit!" he stared with non blinking eyes, unable to move until he felt a hand touch his shoulder and looked to see the face of Catherine staring directly at him. "Joachim! How wonderful for you to come! Maurizio said you agreed to join us tonight."

"What is _he_ doing here?" His firm yet darkened inquiry filled the joyous mood, though Catherine replied with a delighted chuckle as she shoved him forward toward the table. "He stopped by this evening when he was on another of his evening rides. He was asking about you and wondering how you were, and he felt quite apologetic for last evening. Go and talk to him yourself and see!" He continued to remain where he stood until he felt her hand take his, which mechanically made his feet walk toward the table in tow of her steps. "What's the matter? Are you shy?" She looked over her shoulder at him, her emerald eyes glittering in amusement when he gave a momentary silence before responding.

"I just don't feel like associating with _him_." He sighed, his eyes darting to the familiar figure sitting at the table as though in the presence of a leper.

"I was not aware you would be so objectionable," she answered. "Though, I beg you to mind your temper this evening. You could use a little cheering up, after all."

Despite her seriousness, his eyes were locked upon the other lord, who had taken notice of him quickly and said, in an inviting tone. "Good evening, Lord Joachim. Tis' a pleasure you decided to come. Please, join us if you wish."

Joachim listened to the calm words while their eyes locked and did not budge from where he stood. "Walter." The name tasted bitter in his mouth, whilst Walter remained unfazed, his dark eyes glinting in the dimly lit room as one of his gauntlet-covered hands ushered to an empty chair. The red-haired lord's ashen face glistened in the candlelight, his crimson locks splaying across his shoulders when he moved. The man's gestures were methodical, as if he had carefully planned out how he might appease the young nobleman.

Walter's smooth lips curved into a persistent smile."Please," He added graciously. "I would enjoy your company tonight, Lord Armster. Permit me to take care of the drinks. It is the least I can do to show my appreciation for allowing me to join your party last night. Indeed, t'was an enjoyable and unforgettable event."

"I can pay for my own drink, thank you." Joachim muttered, staring at the empty stool until he noticed everyone at the table, including Catherine, was looking at him expectantly.

Walter continued to gaze at him like the rest, though a strange glint refracted in his eyes as he sat back on his stool and sighed deeply. "I apologize if I offended you. Allow me to honor you tonight so that we can make amends."

"I will stay for one drink. That is all." Joachim replied shortly, ignoring the man's satisfied smile. Though he could not say what it was, something about Walter made him cringe. Whether it was out of fear, loathing, or admiration he could not say. Perhaps it was all three.

"Only one? For our gracious God's sake man, you should stay for one hundred! I could drink all night if I did not pass out." Maurizio leaned over from where he sat and reached for his glass containing the thin watery liquid, which he placed to his lips and swallowed in several long gulps.

"There are other ways to be a man, Maurizio." Catherine remarked and took a small sip from her glass of ale, a gesture that seemed very passive compared to the knight. "I would sooner spend my company with a sober man than a drunkard. I desire more in conversation instead of meaningless enjoyments that God forbids within the church." She smiled slightly at the drink and set her glass down on the table with hardly a sound, while Clara leaned on Walter's shoulder and shook her head. "God? I am tired of God dictating our lives. We should be able to do whatever we want, and if I want to have a dozen drinks then God try and stop me!"

"What is all this talk about God for anyway?" Joachim sighed impatiently. Indeed, if he had known the conversation would center on religious matters he may have reconsidered joining them that evening. Despite proclaiming to be a devout Catholic, the Church's political stance was beginning to make him ill at ease. It was, after all, difficult for a man such as he to follow a religious order that was capable of damning him as easily as saving him. It would take only one adversary, perhaps someone of high repute and authority, to accuse him of witchcraft. Even one accusation could topple a lord's authority and political allegiances. No one wanted to be accused of being in league with a witch. A lord who believed they had an abundance of allies could suddenly find themselves with not a friend in the world who would defend them. He knew he had to be especially careful surrounding religious matters – he did not know who was listening and who was not. Thus, the young lord restricted his rather objectionable thoughts, looking at Walter with visible disinterest. "I want to talk about something else. Religious matters are none of our concern, especially considering we are discussing it in a place such as this."

Without continuing the subject, Walter raised his hand to signal for a drink to be brought to them. The man's gestures were smooth yet authoritative – his very presence commanding the attention of the barmaid, who immediately obliged by setting several glasses of ale on the table. Once the drinks were presented, Joachim reluctantly picked up a glass and took a sip. The cold, fizzy liquid slid down his throat, awakening his senses and making him more aware of the fact that Walter had not taken his eyes off him since he arrived. The unnerving thought made the young man shudder, his pale eyes looking at Walter's pasty white visage as the man ushered to him while asking thoughtfully. "What would interest you then, Lord Armster? I agree that, perhaps, God is not a suitable topic. The Church's exploits in the East is controversial at best. I am afraid, I am not accustomed to small village communities, for my castle is home to lively occupation by many at one time so I often do not have for individual conversation." Walter smiled as he raised his glass. "Let us toast to simply being in each other's company. I hope everyone finds this satisfactory?"

Joachim continued to stare at him with a transfixed gaze, watching his every move from the almost non-blinking gaze of his eyes to the supple movements of his crimson wavy locks that fell around his ornately pale face and dark blood red armor. "What if I do not care to make a toast?" He inquired rhetorically, and felt a jab in his arm the second Catherine glanced at him and raised her glass. "I find little to toast to this evening – a man was murdered today and my mind is set on more serious matters."

"A man was murdered? Is that so?" Walter kept his glass raised but asked overtop the faded smiles that quickly washed through everyone's expressions at the table.

Joachim shook his head and ignored the tension slowly building within their conversation enough to answer in a matter of fact tone. "I do not know as of yet. It could have been a random act done by a traveler or vagrant but questions still remain." He brushed away a strand of his pearly white hair; locking eyes with Walter and watching him sit back and cock his head to one side in vague, unemotional curiosity.

"I still say it was a vampire." Maurizio blurted out and nearly jumped out of his chair as his voice rose with his words. "What else would puncture two holes in that fellow's neck and drain him dry of his blood? It's a vampire at work I tell you, and if I find him I shall slay him myself and earn a title worthy of Sir Maurizio."

"You are already 'Sir' Maurizio! You are a knight, fool, so obviously people have to call you by Sir." Emmaline remarked, rolling her eyes. "I agree with Sir Maurizio, though. Nothing else could have done it, and if someone went through all the work to drain him dry, why? It is impossible for a human to do something so horrible." She shuddered dramatically and took a few sips of her ale while Catherine rested her chin in her hand and murmured in thought.

"I wonder why vampires need our blood to survive? It must be quite a lifestyle…so full of mystery and constant adventure. It would be interesting if I could meet a vampire someday-"

"Interesting?" Joachim glared, his brow furrowing. "I can scarcely call a myth interesting! Vampires do not exist; all of you are basing such ideas on your wild imaginations or from too much ale. Such talk is ridiculous and insulting! A human being is responsible and I intend to bring them to justice for the crime they have committed." He growled under his breath, perturbed by Walter's unblinking eyes. For some reason, he did not feel quite as sure of himself as he thought.

In dismay, Catherine shook her head at him and rolled her eyes to let them fall upon Walter's form still sitting in a very calm and collected mood. "What is your opinion, Lord Walter?" she asked, her eyes transfixed upon him. "You are not from Creightel, so surely you must have some insight from your other experiences? Please share them with us, for it could bring about new ideas."

Joachim turned his head away to stare at the floor. Walter narrow his eyes and drummed his gauntlets on the tabletop. His deep voice mused aloud alongside, in Joachim's mind, was an overly exaggerated pause in thought. "Mankind is bound to murder one another, it has been occurring since the dawn of time. Vampires are said to have existed even longer than man, first feeding off the blood of animals until acquiring a taste for humans. It is possible that a vampire was responsible due to the bite marks you described – a mark always left by a vampire on its victim. Some call it the _vampire's kiss_."

"Really?" Jezebel gasped. "How dreadful! Why do vampires bite people then if they could drink the blood of animals instead?"

A slow smile pierced Walter's lips, and with a steady gesture he placed his hand on hers. "Not to worry, my dear, you have nothing to fear. Human blood must have something they want and must taste better than animal blood. After all, humans are gifted creatures…some might even say they are just as blood thirsty as vampires. A great many men have spilled blood in the name of Christ. If vampires do not consume blood, like man, they are capable of dying."

All eyes except remained glued on Walter intently. However, Joachim could not prevent a loud scoff from escaping his lips as he leaned back in his chair and grabbed his glass off the table. "Foolish. How do you know so much anyway?" He sneered between sips of ale. "You are probably influenced by local legends. Romanian people are quite susceptible to believing in nonsense like the undead." A smile spread across his lips at the thought. It was ludicrous for people to believe in folklore. People's growing paranoia about witches confirmed the consequences of allowing fear and ignorance to control society. Of course, he would not venture so far as to say that in public. Despite his conviction, the serious tone in which Walter replied made him hesitate.

"I have had my share of information and experiences with vampires." Walter began, his eyes narrowing, whilst he made the wolf-like motion of licking his lips. Joachim could not determine whether the man was offended or amused by what he had said. In the torchlight, the other lord's pasty white skin contrasted his dark eyes, which gave the young man a knowing look. "You could say…I understand how they think. Vampires are complex creatures. Though dead, they possess an insatiable desire to maintain their immortality by feeding off the blood of humans. Contrary to popular belief, vampires choose their victims carefully. Not all humans who are bit will become immortal. A vampire's discretionary behavior – ability to selectively choose who is worthy of such an existence – is, perhaps, one of their most invaluable qualities. It is necessary to the very survival of the species. Nevertheless, most vampires would kill in the blink of an eye if it suited them, for it must be difficult to resist draining their victim completely dry."

Joachim felt his glass shake in his grasp when he noticed Walter's lips form a slighted frown. The man's gem-like eyes gleamed in the dim candlelight of the tavern. A silence consumed the table until Catherine cupped her hands in front of her, his lips curving into a downward curl of unease. "Fascinating! Tell us more Walter. What about that legendary vampire from Eternal Night? Do you think it could be him-"

A loud chuckle parted from Walter's lips and he shook his head, delicately reaching across the table to cup her face in his gauntlet-covered hand. Despite the man's imposing appearance, the manner in which he touched her was gentle. Joachim felt his insides churn from witnessing the sight. As if a great hand had secured him in place, he could not move. The young man's body became so still it was as though he had turned into a marble statue. Nevertheless, his lips curved into a scowl so noticeable that Maurizio gave him several uneasy glances as Walter replied. "Vampires do not usually make their presence known. If that vampire desires human blood, he will go anywhere to get it – even a small village such as this. However, reality and myth have distorted people's perception of Eternal Night."

"Stop spinning tales, Walter." Joachim sneered; tempted to rip the man's hand away as though it was diseased. He waited until Walter's hands returned to his side before continuing, his voice barely calm enough to form the words he wished to say.

"Someday, all of you must realize that fiction has become more real than fact. Legends about vampires scare small children into saying their prayers every night. None of you has seen a vampire. I grow tired of this topic – it merely perpetuates a cycle of fear and paranoia in Creightel."

However, his comment received only a sharp response from Catherine, who gave him an indignant scowl in return. "Joachim, must you judge and criticize those whose opinions differ from yours so harshly? Have you no tolerance for anything that is different and beyond scientific fact? You are beginning to sound like your father-"

Joachim held up his hand and gritted his teeth, which swiftly made the young woman fall silent. Though he was relieved that she obeyed him, his eyes darted around the table and noticed that everyone else had looked away in discomfort. The very mention of his father was enough to remind everyone - including him – that he was merely a disappointment. Within moments, the deafening silence consuming the table made his throat constrict as stress mounted upon his weakened body. Joachim clasped his chest as he fought to breathe, his body leaning forward to cough, whilst his chest heaved and trembled like a fish out of water. If he had the strength, he would have gotten up that instant and left. Yet, the dizziness that overtook him made him fall back in his chair, unable to do anything except pant heavily. The mere mention of Lord Zaeviean made a wave of fear appear in the young man's eyes as he turned away, hiding his shame behind a mask of fatigue.

"Joachim…" Catherine began, despite his attempt to avoid the repentant look she gave him. "I…didn't mean that…you could never be…"

"Is something the matter?" Walter asked. Joachim glanced at the man shortly, noting that he seemed unsurprised. Walter had barely batted an eyelid at the young man's frailty. In fact, he wondered if the other lord had become more curious about him because of it. The man's dark, probing eyes focused on him intently, noting how his breath hitched in his chest when their eyes locked. The feeling was so discomforting that he had to turn away again to avoid worsening his condition. His heart began thumping wildly in his chest upon hearing the man add. "Perhaps the young lord is tired…rest a while. I shall leave you two for a moment."

The second his eyes strayed again to glance at Walter, he was already gone and sitting at a different table with Jezebel and Emmaline. They were not far away, but far enough to make his tension ease while Catherine lowered her head. "Please Joachim," She whispered, fighting back the tears building in her eyes. "Forgive me for my outburst, I am truly ashamed of what I said. I know your father is a difficult subject. I have humiliated you in front of your fellow lords and ladies. Indeed, it seems I am not a worthy companion for you. How could someone so plain and ignorant as I understand what you endured? I do not have access to books like you. I am sure you know more about life than I."

He gazed at her again, the swelling in his throat lessening considerably as he set his elbow on the table and cupped his hand in his chin, immersed in his own thoughts. Alone with her at last, Joachim took in a deep sigh before managing to whisper under his breath. "Never mind it. You're probably correct about that…I am not much of a Lord am I?" his words sounded more like a statement instead of a question.

She grasped his hands in hers and rapidly shook her head, her ringlets bouncing against her lovely face. Despite her quick denial, he stubbornly refused to look at her. "No! That's not true. You are nothing like your father, and for that I am grateful-"

Joachim's eyes widened, though his mouth was quick to reveal the thoughts that were swirling through his mind. "Of course I am nothing like him." He replied, the bitterness in his voice more powerful than any poison ever concocted. The surge of rage and envy seeping through him was almost unbearable. His nails dug into the wooden table so hard that he thought he would rip it to pieces under his grip. Though sickly, a powerful feeling of resentment changed his sullen disposition quicker than wildfire. He could barely contain himself as he whispered back in a hoarse voice. "I have accomplished nothing! I am just…the weak son of a powerful and respectable lord…even you think the same…" his tone seemed to stop her in place for her eyes remained unblinking as if frozen open, and her lips parted to speak but he quickly interrupted her attempt. "I will not blame you for thinking that, so there is no need to try and take back what has already been said. Most villagers think I should be on the warfront in the east, but you know how it is with the king's guard, only wanting the finest men to fight-"

"Joachim…" she reached out and touched his cheek with her hand, one of his favorite ways she displayed the methods providing comfort. The warmth of her fingers caressing his skin sent tremors of shame through his body. The woman's olive colored skin made her appear like some sort of heavenly sent creature in his eyes, so gentle and innocent that he could say nothing more to her other than to listen to her careful words. "Your condition is no fault of your own. I know you are very angry but please forgive me for what I said. I did not mean it. If you were like your father, I would never…"

"You would never what?" He asked, not understanding why she failed to finish her sentence. It did not take him long to conclude that it had to be because she knew he was right. Indeed, she was unable to admit the truth – he was ill, weak, and unfit to rule in his father's place. An early death would be an inevitable fate for someone so ill. Joachim's face turned a shade paler from the thought. Curtains of his thick, pearly white hair cascaded around his face when he lowered his head, denying himself the joy of looking at her again. She thought he was no better than his father –what he lacked in strength was compensated by his coldness. Perhaps he was even more tyrannical, crueler and indifferent to those around him than he realized. He noticed that she had hesitated in responding to him, her eyes transfixed by his curious expression while her lips parted to speak. However, at that point, Joachim's attention had diverted to the table near them where Jezebel, Emmaline, Maurizio, and Walter had temporarily seated themselves.

Joachim quickly picked up Jezebel's rather loud voice overtop the countless other conversations. He recognized the quickened tone she used to speak when discussing a matter of great interest. The young man's vigilant eyes immediately focused upon Walter, who had leaned closer to listen to what she was saying. Walter's long, crimson cape flowed around his armored form like a river of blood. The striking image made Joachim stiffen in his chair, though he was careful to avoid turning around completely, content with remaining ignored. Nevertheless, it was difficult to overhear Jezebel's rather loud voice carrying over the excited murmur of conversations in the tavern.

"…_It was a very mysterious thing at that. They found him as a tiny infant fresh from the womb, crying loudly in the arms of his dead mother who must have held him but once before death claimed her soul. How it was possible for her to take him so soon after birth is unknown, for no one even knew she had gone into labor, she made not a sound…_" Joachim's heart began to pound against his chest again in apprehension, though nothing could make him get up from the table. Although it pained him deeply, he remained silent as she continued to whisper in the man's ear. "_T'was a tragedy…Lord Zaeviean never recovered after her death. To have a son in that sort of a condition, why it is a disgrace to the family! Never able to battle, or to seek any sort of honorary with our king…poor being that he is, all alone now…_"

"I am not a disgrace…!" Joachim clenched his hands into fists and breathed heavily through his nostrils, watching her every move as Walter cocked his head again but when Joachim observed the seemingly casual gesture, he noticed that on the man's face was an almost pained grimace so strange he could not even fathom it to describe its meaning.

"Joachim?" Catherine asked, alarmed by his silence. It seemed she had also overheard the conversation, for her bright green eyes flitted between Jezebel and he in visible trepidation. "Do not listen to her," she urged, attempting to soothe him when she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Jezebel always talks about other people. You cannot take it personally! Please, just-"

"Leave me alone, Catherine." He snapped, sliding away from her touch and lowering his head, his eyes glinting in rage. Though he regretted speaking to her rudely, she could never understand what it was like to be the subject of amusement and ridicule. Though he was twenty years old, he experienced torment of a thousand lifetimes. He stared haphazardly at Jezebel and Walter. The other lord had allowed the woman to sit very close to him, however the intensity of his gaze proved that he was more interested in what she was saying than in the woman herself. When her hand 'accidentally' wandered to Walter's, a somewhat annoyed little grin crossed his lips as he shied away from her touch. The man's deep chuckle offset his attempt to avoid her affectionate touch. Joachim felt Walter's gaze wander to him briefly before he leaned toward her, whispering something in her ear. Upon hearing what he said, Jezebel's brow furrowed, her lips pouting like a small child. "_My Lord Walter, it seems your interest in Joachim knows no bounds. He mostly keeps to himself, so I hear. Reading and writing is said to be a hobby of his – but swordsmanship is what came best…though it is clear he is wasted talent. A man so ill shall never venture East. I heard he likes a certain someone he grew close with over the years, but lord knows such a match would be a sin against God. Gypsy filth like her are parasites. She would live off his wealth and name – destroying a pure line with tainted blood._"

Joachim nearly bolted from his chair, but again he could not move as he watched Walter lean closer to her and speak to her so softly it could not be heard over the noise in the tavern. The longer he watched the more the rage began to build within him, but his eyes widened like saucers when he saw Walter turn his head just slightly, and the dark pupils of his eyes lock onto him for a fraction of a second. "_…Who knows about the father's fate? I think it was the work of a vampire, as does almost everyone in Creightel. He doesn't want to believe it. Anyone could see the bite marks as clear as day, and to assume otherwise is absurd._" He stared at them both where they sat, his eyes pooling but when he blinked he wiped them with his sleeve and caved to the urge of his instincts. Joachim slowly got to his feet, but when he noticed Catherine shift to stand at his side he stared at her and held up a hand. "I-I…must go now…I am tired. Give Maurizio my regards."

"Why are you leaving so soon, you have not finished your drink?" Catherine ushered to the nearly full glass on the table while he whirled to face the door of the tavern like a prisoner plotting an escape.

"I'm not thirsty – you may do with it as you please." He quickly covered while his feet began to move him gradually toward the door, but without getting up she called to him again and brushed out the wrinkles in her amethyst colored dress. "At least say farewell to Lord Walter on your way?"

Joachim ignored her last comment and continued his pace toward the door but the second he came within range of it he heard Walter's voice overtop the others. "Joachim. Are you leaving already? I regret not having a conversation with you-" Without even looking at him Joachim continued onward, but overheard Christiana remark again in her usual loud whisper. "_He always does that Lord Walter – unbecoming in manners despite his proper upbringing. Ah, what kind of fate will our village suffer under his reign, I bet he would sooner see this place burn to the ground than lift a finger to do as his father did_…"

His lips pursed tighter to meet his narrowed eyes, and with a final exit he flung the door open and stepped outside into the night, slamming it shut behind him so that she would know he overheard her. The night was still as dark and lonely as before, but for once he relished the shadows that enveloped his pale visage. His crystalline eyes looked over the roadway until he pierced the silence with a loud whistle. The familiar clopping noise of hooves pounded over the road, until the silvery shape of his horse appeared within the darkness. "There you are." He stated without enthusiasm when the horse stopped in front of him and whickered a soft greeting. Its long tresses fell down its slender neck and felt like silk as he stroked his horse's mane.

It was not until he felt Cojiro suddenly step back that he noticed the door of the tavern had opened and Walter step outside. "What do you want?" Joachim turned away to saddle his horse.

Walter shut the door behind him, ignoring the young man's blatant repugnance. "What a splendid evening." He observed in an almost cheerful tone. "Must you leave so soon? Your comrades are concerned. Is something the matter?"

"I don't need your help. Go back inside and continue your little discussion with Lady Jezebel." Joachim spat, eyes blazing when he remembered what he had overheard.

Walter stepped toward him, his eyes carefully focused upon the young man with growing interest. The other lord's pale face starkly contrasted the surrounding darkness, giving him a rather striking, though slightly unnerving, appearance. "I see. I meant no ill will toward you. I wished to see if there was something I could do about your illness. It seems the doctors are unable to help you, and the death of your father must have been quite difficult-"

Joachim growled loudly and gave Walter a piercing stare that reflected the gleam within his pale eyes. "What would you know of that, anyway?" He sneered. "The only way you ever could help me is by leaving me the hell alone." Although he spoke harshly, Walter returned his words with a slight smile.

The man made not a sound when he approached, allowing his cape to swish gracefully with his steps as tendrils of his red hair brushed against his fine cheekbones, curtaining his left eye. "I understand. To have a member of your clan taken by a vampire must make you question their very existence."

"I do not question their existence. My father became ill and died from a disease caused by a bat. Lord Zaeviean was not bitten by a vampire." Joachim stroked the neck of his horse, but noticed Cojiro's ears had flattened upon its head.

Walter's steps were barely audible as he moved forward in turn with Joachim's backward, and a slightly annoyed twinge seeped through his smile. "A vampire has reasons for taking certain victims. I suspect your father was in the wrong place at the right time."

"What are you implying?" Joachim swallowed hard and felt his fingertips touch the handle of his sword hidden behind his robe, but Walter's attention drifted to his hand when their eyes locked together and pursued an awkward silence. He felt his fingertips lightly caress the handle of the blade, barely moving to do so while Walter took another step closer to him and smiled as if expecting his actions with predetermined intent. The man's eyes glinted in the darkness as Joachim's widened and pooled in astonish, though within moments of the man nearing him Cojiro snorted through its flared nostrils and suddenly jerked its head backward. Walter blinked several times at the quick gesture of the horse when its ears flattened upon its head and its lips parted to reveal the gleaming flash of ivory incisors.

The beast lunged forward and stomped the ground madly with its hooves, and with quick respond Joachim struggled to try and keep the animal still. "What's the matter Cojiro? What are you doing?" the horse emitted a loud whinny before it arched itself upon its haunches and slashed at the air with its hooves, nearly impaling Walter if he had not avoided the creature's muscled legs with lightning speed. "What has gotten into you? Cojiro?" Joachim pressed his hand harder against his horse's front after it landed and snapped at Walter before slowly backing away as he pushed commandingly on its front chest with his hand. "Cojiro." He soothed softly while his hand skimmed the soft silver coat comfortingly and he pressed his head against its shoulder.

Joachim reached into the pocket of his robe and withdrew a handful of carrots. Instead of feeling Cojiro's muzzle nipping to grab the carrots, a rush of warm air brushed over his skin when the horse snorted loudly and clicked its incisors. He attempted to hold one of near its nostrils so it could catch the scent, however the horse turned its head away and slowly stepped in front of him. The loud stomps from its hooves smashing against the cobblestone made Joachim jump in place each time and watch the animal bob its head up and down and swish its tail violently, so the silken tendrils brushed against his shoulder.

The stomping pounded an echo that disappeared into the night and became a sort of angry rhythmic pattern, though Walter showed not the slightest sign of even flinching upon being neared once again by the horse. "It seems you need you to manage your horse more carefully, young lord." The slight grin resumed over Walter's lips while the man stared with passive interest.

"And you would know a lot about my horse, I presume?" Joachim countered and stepped forward before he placed his hand against his horse's chest and pushed against it to urge the creature to step back again.

"I did not say that." Walter turned his armor plated frame around with a swish of his long black cape. "I am merely giving advice. It seems 'Cojiro' is distressed, so I suggest you return home and put your horse at ease."

"You suggest? It seems more like you are telling me to, _Walter_. You must think highly of your intelligence by trying give such wondrous advice…but here is some advice for you: if you try to tell me how to live my life, or interfere with my personal affairs I will seek you out and ensure that throat of yours never vibrates another word of 'advice'. Keep that in mind."

His eyes flashed with intensity while he lowered his head and stared up at Walter's frame, however Walter merely returned the stare until a small chuckle escaped through his throat and filled the air in its deep sound. "Hmm? I hardly think you can carry out your threats, little Lord. I can tell by that hesitant stance your blade has never spilt blood, and I doubt you would like to try and make me the first. I assure you that would be unwise, unless you are requesting a swift death." The man gave him a bemused smile and continued to chuckle, allowing the sound to escape under his breath while he turned toward the dark road leading into the depths of the night through the village. In barely a whisper Joachim heard him remark while his back was turned and he walked away. "_If you still wish to, I dare you Joachim_."

Joachim paused when his horse stomped the ground again and startled him. He jumped in place but remained where he stood as Walter lifted a hand and snapped his fingers to create a short but loud click that filled the brief silence. Within a second hoof beats resounded into the night, and were met by a massive blood bay colored stallion galloping up the road. The horse had a mane and tail the color of coal, mixed with the dark glisten of its eyes and the loud heavy breaths escaping through its partially open mouth. The stallion slowed to a trot and then halted right in front of Walter, and remained still to let its master mount its back. Walter eased himself into the saddle and relaxed his form upon the back of the rather large creature, though a smile remained plastered on his lips as he gave the horse a swift nudge so it turned and took off once more at its quick galloping pace.

Joachim continued to stand with Cojiro until the stallion and its rider vanished into the night as if never being there at all. The sight was strange, and vaguely mesmerizing, but it did not take him long to blink several times and kick a few loose pebbles on the ground with his boots. "Damn him." He muttered. "Show off. I would very much like to see him wield a sword as well as I can. If he thinks he can simply swagger around Creightel, perhaps I should pay him another visit." He lifted his foot to step forward toward the direction Walter vanished from, but the second his body shifted he felt something jerk him back by the sleeve of his robe. Joachim quickly whirled in place with widened eyes only to see his horse nipping at his shoulder. "Oh." He said again. "You don't want me to go, do you?" the horse stared at him for a long moment and finally shook its head side to side in answer to his question that made a vaguely amused smile crease the corner of his lips.

"Joachim, what are you doing out here?" he jumped and clasped a hand over his chest, his breaths quickened until he whirled and saw the form of Catherine standing in the doorway. The light from within the tavern silhouetted her graceful form, but he caught the glitter of her emerald eyes staring at him in question. "Where did Lord Bernhard disappear to?" she stepped out into the darkness and shut the door behind her.

Joachim huffed under his breath and fiddled with the saddle a last time, before he turned to her and swept aside the tails of his robe and addressed her. "I don't know, but he left just a few minutes ago. Why do you care anyway? Good riddance I say."

The clear hint of spite in his voice only made her place her hands on her hips and shake her head at him, while the dark raven colored curls of her ringlets bounced around her shoulders and down her slender back. "You're behaving childishly. Lord Walter was concerned about you and offered to see if you were all right because you left again. Try not to turn that into a habit, Joachim, its unbecoming. You have insulted Walter since the second you met him, yet he has not done as you have-"

"I will hear no more of this!" he interrupted and held up a hand, and in unison he walked in a slow circle to calm himself once again. His eyes of crystal blue clashed against her emerald green, though neither she nor he was willing to surrender. "I don't trust him. Things in Creightel were fine before he appeared, and I have decided to investigate him myself."

Catherine cocked an eyebrow in response, her lips pursing into an annoyed formation that she always made since he could remember. Not to his surprise, her reply had an uncanny match with her expression. "What Lord Bernhard does is his business. I am not going to let you make a mockery of yourself by tormenting him. Come back inside and stop this nonsense before you give the entire village a headache."

The young lord shook his head and stepped toward his horse to prove his determination. "No. I am going to pursue this matter. Why don't _you_ go back inside and enjoy the rest of evening, leave me to do as I please for nothing you say is going to make me change my mind!"

"What do you hope to accomplish by acting like a fool?" she challenged and stepped closer to him, moving her arms to fold them across her chest and her head to hold it slightly higher. "You have some nerve! There is nothing wrong with Walter." He watched the way she stared at him, with such fierce determination that a dark glower crossed his lips and his eyes blazed to find her defense outmatched anything he had ever seen her become so persistent about. "Why do you dislike him so?" she continued without giving him time to retort. "Walter has tried to be courteous and considerate toward you."

Joachim continued to scowl at her until his eyes looked beyond her to the road that disappeared within the enshrouded night. "I must find him. I don't have time for lectures…if I don't depart now I will not catch him in time-"

"Joachim." Catherine's voice rose so quickly he looked at her again but said nothing. "I try to convince you but as always you refuse to believe me."

He raised his head above her eyelevel due to being taller anyway, though with his gesture he felt his face pale and his voice grow dark as a sudden feeling of aversion struck through his heart. "You speak as if you are attracted to that man." All at once Joachim felt his throat tighten and his frame sway as if feeling faint, and he had to lean on his horse to stay upright. The thought made him wretch inside.

"You are the last person who should be making accusations right now." She retorted, her eyes glaring at him impatiently.

A strange silence followed her words, and she stared up at him with glistening eyes until he faced his horse and made a swift mount upon its back into the saddle. While he shifted in place to arrange himself, Catherine stepped toward him expectantly. "I want to come. There is nothing wrong with Lord Walter. Absolutely nothing." Her voice had calmed somewhat from its shrill tone of demand into that of a humble request. Joachim peered down at her in thought, but shook his head and brushed away strands of his pearly white hair.

"Catherine, this is something I want to do by myself. It's not an investigation for little girls-"As quickly as he spoke she placed her hands on her hips once again.

"Little girls?" her voice rose slightly but fell quiet when she saw his lips purse with indignation. "I am not a little girl anymore. I am a _lady_, and I'm only two years younger than you! If you will not let me accompany you, I shall simply follow you then."

He watched her swallow hard and hold her head high, and in the process her eyes locked with his and refused to separate their staring until he accepted. Another sigh parted from his lips, which seemed to becoming routine whenever people spoke to him with such insistences. "Catherine…" he warned, but to his dismay his voice choked with unease. "You're right, its dark and you should not be wandering around – you could get lost…or worse…" his voice trailed as she shook her head and stepped closer.

"I meant what I said about walking, and I don't care if you think I am being foolish for that or not." There was still the same sheer glint of determination in her emerald eyes, and even the look she gave him made it difficult to refuse. Added to that by the thought of the dead body found earlier that day sent shivers down his spine, and while his eyes lingered on her sweet innocent expression he took in a deep breath and acknowledged exasperatedly. "Alright…you can accompany me.

She smirked mischievously and when he expended his hand to aid her he blinked several times when she ignored it and mounted behind him. In moments he felt her wrap her arms behind his waist, and the sudden touch of her warm hands against his robes caused him to flinch."Scared? Or is it because you didn't think a lady could mount a horse with just as much skill and grace as a man?" Joachim gritted his teeth together and forced his lips to keep a firm stance upon the sensation of her warm hands around him. His head turned slightly to look over his shoulder and hear her comment once more. "Oh! Are you sure your well enough for this? Your face has flushed again…perhaps we should just go back inside-"

"No, I will be fine…its nothing…" he fumbled to regain himself and stared ahead as the warmth consuming his cheeks faded the second his mind wandered to Walter. With a deep intake of air into his lungs he kicked his horse gently and felt Cojiro spur forward from his command. The clip clop pace of the horse swiftly increased and with it the feeling of her hands around him. "Slow down!" she cried and gasped in surprise when he let the horse continue at its pace. Joachim fumbled nervously to maintain his focus as she pressed herself closer against him and sighed with such contentment his ears picked up the sound. He never imagined such a small noise would make his heart flutter like the beats of a butterfly, especially when he kept the smile wanting to break free sustained into a firm frown. "Now look who's scared." He chuckled until she prodded him in the arm. "I am not scared! Poor Cojiro, he should take you home since he has more sense than you."

The lone moon was the only object lighting their path, but in the process a small shape flew over the starry abyss. In the light of the moon he caught a glimpse of its jet back form, and heard an eerily sweet twitter fill the air. "Is that all? Come now, it's just a harmless bird." He shook his head and saw the bird's tiny jet-black form perching on a nearby tree branch just as he expected. "I think your losing it Catherine, first you're afraid of vampires and now a lark." his gaze intensified upon the small bird that continued to sing a strange twittering melody. Within the darkness he saw the glitter of its tiny eyes and the sleek shine of its feathered frame.

The longer he gazed at the small bird the more noticeable his horse's uneasiness became. The equine slowed to a slow, apprehensive walk, its onyx hooves scraping against the ground when it halted without warning. After creating a loud snort, the horse tossed its head back and let its silvery tress fall against its slender neck, before backing away. "Are you tired Cojiro?" Joachim leaned forward and touched his horse's silken mane, stroking it softly as the horse snorted and flared its nostrils. "Its alright. Fear not, there's nothing here that can cause you harm." He reassured as much as he could, softening his voice along with his touch in lighter hopes of a response, however the horse continued to back up even as he pressed against its side with his boots in an attempt to urge it forward.

Instead of obeying, the horse raised its head and emitted a shrill whinny. "Stop being so difficult," Joachim patted the animal's neck again, trying to convince it to listen. "This is not like you at all…" Standing as perfectly as a statue, it flicked its long tail while pawing restlessly at the earth. Catherine leaned forward against him upon realizing the evident fact the horse was refusing to move. The young man sighed and dismounted, checking the forest surrounding the path for a sign of predators. Horses were inherently afraid of wolves, which were quite plentiful in Romania. With slow, cautious steps, he slid his hand along the horse's side and approached Cojiro's front so the horse was aware of his presence.

Joachim shook his head, his hand extending away from the animal's coat to rub its velvety muzzle. A weak smile crossed his lips at the sight, though his pale blue eyes dimmed in the lack of light quickly enveloping them. "I wonder if a relative of yours is part donkey or something, because I cannot believe how stubborn you are being." He chuckled until the animal pricked its ears forward. He nearly assumed the bird had startled his horse as it had Catherine and him, but when he turned to survey the landscape his eyes blinked several times to find the light of the moon silhouetted a figure in the distance.

"Is that Walter?" Catherine exclaimed and nearly jumped out of the saddle when her frame leaned forward to catch a closer look. The ringlets of her ebony hair seemed to blend her form well within the darkness, but Joachim easily caught notice of her renewed attention. "Surely that is Lord Walter! He must have seen us and stopped to wait-" Joachim whirled in place and shook his head rapidly, his eyes so wide that it caused his voice to lower into a low hiss. "Be quiet! The whole purpose of this was so he would not know we were following." He took a hesitant step forward but nearly fell back to find a familiar tug pulling at the sleeve of his robe. "Let go Cojiro." He continued to pull away but the strength from the horse's teeth enclosed around the fabric increased. "I said let go! I am going whether you object or not!" Nearly ripping the fabric in the process, he pulled his arm away and swatted at its muzzle. A feral snort met his annoyed gesture, and he watched the horse move its head side to side. "See Joachim?" Catherine speculated when his eyes darted to see her observing him with close interest. "Like I mentioned, your horse has more sense then you. If you have no intention of speaking to Walter why not leave him be, he's just returning to his castle?"

"_Of course_ Catherine, that's really what he's doing… he is traveling in the wrong direction." In the distance the shadowed form lingered atop a small hill and from where he stood the figure was barely visible in the night. Joachim could scarcely think he would have missed it completely if it wasn't for the moon's illumination. Despite being unable to see the stranger's face, he frowned and took another bold step forward. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully while watching the figure standing atop the hill. Walter's long cape billowed behind in the cool breeze and the sleek armor he wore despite its weight it upon his body. The only type of armor his weakened frame could support was his chest plate, which many mocked as a fashion statement.

Not to his surprise Cojiro's equally irritated snorts puffed soon after, followed by the restless scraping of hooves against the worn dirt path. His eyes were transfixed ahead, however as he drew forward a strange aura of dizziness began to wind its way through the depths of his mind and body. He continued onward since he accustomed himself somewhat to the feeling over the years, though his eyes could not leave the sight of Walter's tall form standing atop the hill, partially silhouetted by the moon. Within moments his legs became like heavy weights to the point he could no longer walk. Joachim stumbled forward and fell on one knee, his eyes so wide that he almost forgot how to breathe, until he withdrew a shuddering gasp and clutched his hand to his chest.

Catherine's voice became a shrill cry in panic. Walter turned and looked back at him wordlessly. The night blocked any chance of seeing the man's expression, but a sweeping chill shivered down his spine as he attempted to stumble back on his feet. For a brief moment a red flash appeared in the man's eyes, so noticeable and penetrating that he could not move. He struggled to stand up but instead stumbled forward. He lay unmoving, his eyes opening and closing amidst Catherine's frightened cries until he felt her soft arms pull him away from the soil. Her gentle fingers ran over the smooth contours of his cheeks, caressing him tenderly.

No matter how desperate he tried to speak, his lips felt like they had been sealed shut like a wax on an envelope. The sound was unlike any he ever heard, faint to begin with but slowly growing in audacity until it rang through his eardrums and stifled the cry of surprise that wielded from within his throat. The loud unhindered snort from the beast resounded into the air when the thumping gallop changed to a fast paced trot that quickly died off into silence. He listened as intently as his whirling mind would permit, and the words translated in stifled muffles to his mind except for her sweet angelical voice that continued to maintain his sense of composure and awareness. "Please help him Lord Walter! I would be eternally in your debt if you would take us back to Creightel! I don't know what went wrong, he suddenly fainted-"

"_My lady, you need not request anything I will do exactly that. Now, remount that horse and allow me to care for your troubles._" He Walter's audible voice pierce the air, and it was so calm almost immediately her warm hands slipped away from his cheeks and the dull scraping of her shoes against the soil gave the impression she had gotten up to do as he said. "_Has something like this happened before Lady Catherine?_" Joachim nearly missed the strange aura from the man's question and without hesitation Catherine replied. "Yes, he sometimes blacks out when he gets dizzy spells…I have never seen anything like this though…he showed no signs of being ill at all tonight." Another silence passed, then came the icy cold chill that kept him still upon hearing the sound of Walter's boots walking over the pathway toward him. It dawned on him then to try and pry his eyes open to catch a glimpse of the man's tall armored form, but without the strength to do so he couldn't move. "_Such a condition is regrettable for a young Lord. So very regrettable…tonight's stress probably contributed to this relapse._"

Walter's voice chilled him the more he realized his fate was at the man's whim, and he didn't need to open his eyes to know the tall form of the man was standing over him. The only indication of it was the stronger chill that ran down his spine increased tenfold when a pair of gauntlet-covered hands scooped him up with effortless grace beneath his knees and around his upper back to support him. His head lolled over to one side when a rush of cool air swept across his face when the sound of Walter's footsteps began again. "_Hmm…_" he heard the man's voice muse aloud. "_So helpless…he resembles a newborn child. I can see the innocence within his features, he must have been as fragile in his youth as he is now._"

Joachim attempted to keep himself from fading into unconsciousness, for the words the man spoke about him added to the daggers stabbed within his heart. If there had been anything for him to despise it was his illness, an illness of which brought him his rather distinguished as well as disgraced reputation. "Yes, he was." Catherine's voice sounded faint and far from the panic stricken tone once present before Walter arrived. "I did not see much of him when we were young, but he was such a sweet little boy with beautiful crystal blue eyes and such lovely silvery white hair. His father insisted he remain indoors to keep with his studies, and as such he barely saw the sun until Lord Armster dispersed when another outbreak of war arose. Most often he was inside regardless because he was ill and bedridden, so whenever the lord was not about I would go and read books with him and play chess. At first I was merely paying a common courtesy my father insisted I do, but… I felt no desire to discontinue associating with him."

"Interesting. So his father tried to protect him from the world, but due to your integrity I imagine you and he have developed a devout friendship am I not correct? It is not surprising why he defends you with such relentless loyalty." Another short silenced passed until Joachim felt a rush of air whip beneath him until his back settled on what felt like the leathery surface of a saddle. In moments he heard the light lift of Walter's feet off the ground, as the man established behind where he lay draped across what was evidently the large stallion. Beneath his back he felt the dull rippling of the steed's shoulder muscles complete by the tug of gravity and the lack of firm ground beneath his boots, which nudged against the coat of the animal's stomach. To secure him in place one of Walter's hands wrapped around his front and pressed against the plating on his chest.

"Well…you could say Lord Armster wanted him safe…but Joachim didn't always see it that way." The uneasy edge he overheard in her voice made his body twitch to try and sit up, but he already resigned himself to remaining where he lay. There was no way for him to know how much longer he would be able to last in such a state, but his heart beat rapidly at the thought their matters were in discussion over_ him_.

"I can understand why he may have thought so…for there is no such thing as safety. Especially within the enshrouded night, safety is but a fantasy to cloud the mind of what lies within the dark. I do not intend to scare you my lady by saying such things, and so long as you accompany me you have nothing to fear." The dull clopping sound of hooves filled the night, and with it he felt the horse slide into a swift trotting motion, its legs carrying he and its rider with such an upbeat velocity the cool wind whipped through the strands of his pearly white hair and whisked it around his cheeks. Despite the panic-invoking array of blackness that covered his sense of vision and distilled what would have been clearly spoken words into barely audible drawls, his ears picked up Catherine's faint answer. "I am grateful Lord Walter for escorting me home. I must admit this whole thing was Joachim's idea, sometimes he gets such wild thoughts that he uses his pre-judgmental qualities against those who have been kind to him. He is so immature it drives me to the end of my wits, but I suppose without a motherly figure in his life its no fault of his own…" Joachim recognized what sounded like a half hearted chuckle escaping through Walter's throat in his reply. "It appears Lord Joachim has endured much in his young life. Forgive me if I offend you, however the bond you and he share is quite remarkable."

The clopping noise of the horses covered any whimper that escaped through his drying lips, his entire frame becoming rigid in place and forced to listen to Walter's continuance on the subject. "_What defines such a boundary to divide you and he? You do not have to answer if this discomforts you, for it is none of my concern except the devotion you share for him persists in striking my curiosity._" Another silence passed, that time lasting even longer than the first to the point the chilled air gave the mirage of freezing any voice inside Catherine's throat. Yet a second whimper filled the air against his will, and as if hearing the sound he made her voice strained. "I…do not think Joachim is the type to love someone of a lower status. His father wanted him to wed a high baroness and keep her as his lady, and I believe there are other men out there waiting for me…some even closer than I originally imagined. I long to make the choice of whom I love, the man who will guard me through the night and sweep me away from this wretched village to a castle somewhere in my dreams…"

"Granted, your heart shall make that decision. You are such a lovely creature who belongs only with one whom you can trust, and as such that one may be right before your very eyes. Then again he may not, but what is fate to decide that when the choice is yours alone? My castle is a large domain but also lonely, and I although I sought better company I have not taken long in finding it." From somewhere in the distance a lark chirped its haunting song beneath the pallid glow of the moon and Walter's voice died into a hiss Joachim could not mistaken only he could hear. The voice sent a chill down his spine, trembling his body to leave consciousness with Walter's last trailing sentence emphasized by the cold steel of the gauntlets that skimmed across the soft flesh of his cheek.

The night is eternal and shall return, and so will I until I obtain the one I seek…


	7. Chapter 7: Separation Anxiety

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of Konami's characters or Castlevania (though I wish I did!) (^-^)

**Chapter VII**

Joachim awoke with the sun blinding his eyes and a terrible headache. He found himself lying in the comforts of his bed, though he was still donned in his clothing except for his chest armor and boots, which had been removed and set on the dresser. "Ah! So you're finally awake. I was worried about whether you would even wake up at all…"

Joachim's pale blue eyes trailed to the familiar young woman seated on the edge of his bed. Locks of her thick black ringlets fell down her back, and her bright jade eyes glittered in the sunlight. "You are still quite pale though," she remarked as he breathed and clamped a hand across his throbbing forehead. "It seems you do not know when to rest, Joachim."

"Catherine?" he croaked, coughing to clear his throat while she beamed at him merrily. Almost dazed, he brushed a few strands of his white hair out of his eyes and allowed her to assist him in propping the pillows up beneath his back so he could sit up in the bed. When she finished, he emitted a deep sigh when the images of Walter flooded into his memory. "How did I get here? What happened last night? Did that creature do you any harm?" Joachim looked at her intensely, and within the light his smooth skin seemed to lack any pigmentation. The cerulean blue sky beyond his room's large windowpanes, added by the sound from what he thought was a warbler perched in the tree outside his bedside window, brightened his dreary mood.

The small bird's bouts of song awoke him, though he could not complain as he looked upon Catherine's elegant features. "You mean, Walter? Why of course not! He brought you home, and helped me remove you're dreadful boots and armor so I could lay you in bed. I see no reasonable excuse for you to parade around in those things, nor do I find you're constant judgment of Walter rational." She chuckled when his face tinted a shade of crimson as he gave his rather curt reply to meet the scowl wearing across his refined lips.

"You are saying Walter was inside _my _estate, and that he even helped you _undress _me? Why did you not call upon the servants instead?"

"The servants had gone to bed by the time we arrived, and Walter absolutely insisted on helping me." Catherine's lighthearted chuckles rang through his mind, and in turn he pulled the covers of the bed tighter over his body. He had not realized her eyes were in plain view of him without his proper clothing. His cheeks tinted a shade of crimson

"My, how you flush when you are embarrassed! Do not be, for he just aided me in making you comfortable. Walter was concerned and vowed to return this evening to see if your condition has improved. I am glad to see you awake and as adorable as ever Joachim."

"Adorable…" he muttered under his breath, and though his strength was questionable, he hesitated until throwing the covers off his body. "Nevertheless…" he added to her widening eyes at the sudden gesture. "I have spent far too many periods of my life confined to my bed. I have duties to attend to, and I must look into the matter of that Lord Walter…" his voice trailed into silence, that was further met by her added surprise when he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and attempted to ease his weakened body off the mattress. "Please, Joachim!" she held up a hand, her emerald eyes glittering. "You need rest. I regret it is best for you to remain in bed for at least today, however you need not to be stressed further…"

Joachim paused from his attempt and stared at her, and as his eyes trailed over her, he noticed her hands fidget restlessly on her lap. The beauty she possessed through the complimenting shade of amethyst in her dress, and even more so in her eyes and fair skin, was strongly accented whenever her demeanor began to express a troublesome air. Catherine had always been the very definition of a lady, and even in distress she attempted to hide it behind her lively gaze. Whenever she became distressed, it soon wore upon him, and upon sensing it his tone abruptly became more serious than before. "What is the matter? Why do you try to keep me from my obligations? I am a Lord, I can do whatever I wish, and regardless I shall see for myself the trifles that accompany the title I carry."

"Yes, that is true…" she hesitated when Joachim folded his arms across his chest.

"I have no intention of wasting my day resting in bed." He answered finally. "Now, you may as well explain what you're devious little mind is trying to hide. I assure you that will not last for long, and neither will my patience if you refuse to tell me what it is."

Her glittering eyes betrayed the calm expression pressed across her lips, and with a sigh, her gaze drifted to the window that permitted the bright morning sunshine to flood inside the bedroom. "Last evening…the bodies of a mother and child were found near the cathedral. They were a horrid sight to behold, for their flesh was shriveled, and not a drop of blood was found within their veins."

He never expected that such a gorgeous morning would suddenly seem so insignificant after hearing what she said. "Joachim?" Catherine leaned forward in her chair, her eyes blinking upon noticing the fact he began to stare into space. "Are you sure you feel well? Your skin seems to have turned awfully pale."

Joachim bolted upright and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "I have no choice except to be well today." He muttered under his breath, while slowly placing his feet upon the floor. Without hesitation Catherine flew to his side and grabbed his arm to help him stand on both feet, however with just as much attentiveness Joachim brushed her away. He cast an irritated glance when she refused to leave him for a moment as he made his way to his dresser and picked up his armor. With much difficulty he managed to lift the object, unsure whether or not to put it on until Catherine swiped it from his grasp and spun him around in place.

"Catherine!" he tried to scold her, for he had always hated being treated like a child. He knew that it was not her intention, however. "I can dress myself. You have no idea how to wear armor in the first place. I wouldn't be surprised if you put it on backwards-" A low, though somewhat amused sigh parted through his lips.

"If you kept silent, I would be able to tie it up much faster." From the corner of his eyes he saw her lips curve into a frown. "Hold still! You keep squirming, its no wonder I can't put this wretched thing on. Why you do even bother with it? It's completely useless-"

"I'd say the same thing about you, milady." Joachim rolled his eyes, chuckling, while her swift fingers fiddled with the armor's numerous laces. He felt her pull them extra hard, causing him to jerk back on purpose. Joachim barely managed to resist laughing at her impatience.

What was the cause of it all and why? He ran a hand across his brow, trying to think but the realization he had no evidence and no one could be accounted for as a suspect…all with the exception of a single individual. After a few minutes he broke away from his thoughts and looked over his shoulder at Catherine, who had secured the bindings on the back of his armor skillfully. Unlike his servants, she did not tie it so tightly that his ribcage felt like it would snap into pieces. "There," She grabbed hold of his arms. As though he was a doll, she turned him around and gave him a scrutinizing look. "I hope it fits you comfortably. You look exhausted …I fear for you…" her voice trailed away, and became almost lost in the dull glint of her emerald eyes. Joachim stared at her disheartened expression, since for the first time he was able to distinctly see the aura of anxiety in her eyes.

When he was ill his vision was always blurred to the point the world around him became no different than a distorted dream, making him unable to witness her fear and her pain. "Catherine…" he tried to provide her comfort by softening his approach, but he feigned at not knowing what to say.

More than anything he wanted to rid her of her fears, but as long as he remained vulnerable and ill the desire was out of his reach. He alone was the cause of her pain, and living with that knowledge allowed guilt to devour him whole. "I am being inconsiderate. If it would indeed make you feel better, today I shall rest." He tried to smile but the expression refused to cross his lips until he saw relief sparkle through her eyes.

"You will?" her hands cupped together and her dainty feet seemed to prance eagerly in place. "Splendid! You and I will have a pleasant afternoon in the fields! I assure you, Maurizio told me he plans to look into the murders from dawn till dusk, so you need not handle that dreadful affair for the time being. I cannot believe you thought Walter had something to do with it!"

"I _still _think he does." He murmured while reaching for his armored boots laying on the floor by his bed. He avoided looking at the hint of exasperation that overtook the concern in Catherine's eyes, but nothing could prevent him from hearing her complaints, no matter how honest they were.

"Oh Joachim, is there nothing I can do to convince you Walter is not out to get you? I will hear no more of this nonsense. Very well. Just promise me you will be careful around Walter from now own. You don't know him. It seems no one does…"

He gazed out the window a last time, and heard the familiar song of the warbler in the tree outside. Not a moment later the bird flew into view, its tiny wings carrying it high into the azure blue sky. For a moment, Joachim continued to look at the sky where the sun ascended like a golden phoenix, driving the night's brooding shadows back, and allowing the little bird to soar in the light's embrace.

* * *

The horse galloped across emerald fields, its mane whipped in the cool breeze and hooves pounding down the grass covered earth. Its fine nostrils flared with each puff of breath it exhaled from its heaving chest, and its glossy silver coat gleamed under the golden rays of autumn sunlight that broke through the layers of wispy white clouds in the sky. The weather warned of the approaching winter, and began to give evidence by the patches of brown grass that had suffered under nights of frost, as well as by the flocks of birds gathering in the sky in preparation of escaping the first snowfall of the season. Despite the cooling temperatures and the blossoming signs of change, the summer was a blessed time for most, and the mild autumn had given serfs and their lords satisfactory crops. If one looked beyond the endless grass fields, they would be able to catch a glimpse of the stalks of barley and wheat rustling softly in the breeze.

After galloping up a hill, the horse reduced its pace to a trot and halted at the summit beneath a solitary tree. Its ancient branches stretched over most of the hill, providing an ample source of shade and protection from the wind. The young lord made his dismount, followed by Catherine, who yet again proved more than able to do so without his aid. Joachim walked across the hill to an ideal lookout point beyond the tree, whereupon he stood in silence and gazed into the far distance. The wind played with strands of his ivory hair and caused his long robes to flap around his pants, but he remained unbothered until he heard Catherine approaching him from behind. "You are quiet today." She spoke in a bare whisper and stood at his side to survey the land stretched out before them. "I rather enjoyed that gallop you took me on. My father never allows me to ride a horse, but I have no intention of telling him you let me."

Her words were met by silence, though she merely contented herself in it for a few moments, until again the very sound of her voice caused his head to turn and look upon her delighted features. "You know, from up here the land looks like one of the patchwork quilts my mother used to stitch. I remember five years ago the crops did not fair very well…and not only in our village, but in all the region's villages. My family was not badly affected by it, but I do remember seeing some peasant farmers practically starving in the streets…I wish there was something I could have done." Her smile weakened, though the lively sparkle in her eyes failed to dampen for even a moment. There was a distinct way she expressed herself through her words and her eyes, and over time Joachim began to appreciate it more than he realized. The fact they had distanced themselves from the village was enough to lighten the somber state he felt trapped within due to the murders.

"There was nothing you could do." Catherine said soothingly.

He shook his head, and brushed aside the strands of his hair blown across his face by the wind. "That year was difficult for everyone, but I will admit the peasants suffered the most – as always. If they had not been forced to pay such outrageously high taxes, I am certain many of them would not have starved to death. My father's views on taxing were unbreakable, he raised them so high that when I walked through the village, a few peasants approached me and begged me to have it lowered. I did all I could to feed and clothe them, but my father told me I was wasting my time."

"I do not agree. Almost every week someone died, but consider how many lives you spared! I realize now you are nothing like your father, and though you may spite me for saying this, you are nothing like those other selfish lords. You do God's work, and whether or not you believe me…is your choice." She leaned against him and rested her head upon his shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut to bask in his warmth, unaware of the fact his heart began to race in his chest the moment the raven ringlets of her hair brushed against his garments. Since he could remember she always wore a large green bow in her hair that almost matched the color of her eyes, and although the bow became worn over the years, he could not imagine her without it. The very fact she confided in him was enough to make his cheeks flush.

The sudden thought whirled through his mind as his lips fought to keep his vocals from revealing his restlessness. "The villagers are dissatisfied with me. Even though my father literally taxed them to death, they admired him so much everything I do is always inadequate."

"Never mind them! Remember, this village is yours to do as you see fit, and if they knew what it was like under Lord Caelan of Dalwood I doubt they would dare to oppose you again." He felt his heartbeat slow, and gazed down at her comforting smile when she lifted her head and looked to the fields. "What do you keep looking at, Joachim?" her eyes narrowed. "You and I have come out here since we were children, and almost every time you stop and survey these lands. If something out there is so interesting to you, won't you tell me? I find it so irksome when you start to gaze off at nothing in particular, and it makes me fearful you might forget about me!"

"Don't be foolish, someone who natters on as long as you is impossible to forget." A barely audible chuckle vibrated through his throat. "You beast! Stop it, I am merely trying to have a decent conversation!" Catherine soon fled from his arm and returned his remark with a firm shove against his chest armor.

"Why do you always trivialize everything I say, Joachim? Just because I care about what you think does not mean I go on and on about nothing!" she gave him an indignant scowl, but as always it faded under his playful smirk. Not to his surprise, she had always taken interest in his opinions, and he was somewhat thankful that she kept them to herself.

"Very well then," He relented and formed his smirk into a lighthearted smile, however the serious manner in which he spoke maintained the solemn mood encompassing his mind. "Do you see those mountains over there?"

"Mountains?" she stared at the horizon when he pointed at the series of jagged shadows hardly visible beyond the fields of grass and grain. Joachim nodded when her eyes lit up, but her lips kept silent so he could continue.

"Since I was a boy I wondered what those mountains look like up close. Anna-Lisa told me this region is the best for farming, and beyond that are thick forests, narrow cliffs and jagged mountains. She told me stories of men who went to see those mountains in search of the one that could touch the heavens – and some of those men never returned."

"That sounds quite fanciful, but I do not think any mountain is high enough to reach heaven! Why on earth would you care about something like that?" she cocked her head in her peculiar fashion of trying to see into his mind. "You know," she added the second he attempted to speak. "Men in the old testament tried to build a tower that would take them straight into heaven so they could see God. The idea angered God and so He destroyed the tower. For God to make a mountain that high would be hypocritical." She huffed under her breath, though smiled once more when he shrugged and continued to look at the shadowy formations of the mountains far away.

"That was not my point." Joachim muttered, trying to suppress a smile. Though her intentions were good, her imagination had a way of surprising him.

"Then what was your point?" Catherine turned from the sight and strode toward the tree. She leaned against its wide trunk, placing her hands in her lap while her glittering emerald eyes sought his answer.

He wondered if his words were even making sense, but one last glance at the mountains encouraged him to keep his voice from fading into the breeze. "If you care so much about what I have to say, I will tell you. Before my father died, I wanted to leave this village as soon as I was able and journey to those mountains. Do you not wonder what lies beyond the horizon, or what is too distant for our eyes to see? Now that I am a lord, I cannot leave this village, especially when murders are destroying everything my family worked so hard to create. Not only that, my body is too weak to travel anywhere…which means the mountains will always be jagged shadows in the distance."

"Oh Joachim, stop torturing yourself and come sit with me. Everything you need is right here in your village! Your home, friends, serfs, money, and crops…what more is there for you?" She made a deep sigh and looked up at him, though the vibrant glitter in her eyes softened. "Why do you want to go to the east so badly and die for church officials you have never met? There is nothing for you in the desert, nothing except death and hardship. Stay here…your subjects need you…and I need you."

Joachim's eyes widened, and the breath in his lungs left, and he could scarcely move until she patted a spot of grass next to her. Without another word, he seated himself next to her so his back rested against the rough bark of the tree. Once again she took the opportunity and rested her head upon his chest. He relaxed under her warmth, but could not free himself from his own thoughts that soon turned into words. "Alright, enough has been spoken about me. You have never told me anything you want to have in life…your hopes…"

"Oh, that." She smirked. "I have told you a thousand times since I can remember! Were you asleep when I tried to explain?" he shifted in place, but could not find the proper words to say, for his heart began to beat against his chest the longer she kept the mischievous grin pressed across her lips. "So you were then!" she giggled cheerfully.

At that moment nothing in the world could have made him speak. His lower lip trembled, whilst his head tilted downward, allowing curtains of his silky hair to hide the flood of disappointment seeping into his crystal blue eyes.

"Joachim?" her voice summoned him, but he had lost himself in his thoughts like a ship set adrift in an endless confusing ocean. Catherine remained persistent with him however, and maintained her curious stare until at last her hand skimmed across his cheek, and her very touch jolted him to hear her rather serious observation. "I think I know why you are in such a somber mood…" her hand rested against his cheek, and without explanation she drew his face closer to hers. Joachim's words were caught in his throat, his eyes fixing themselves upon her tender lips that were so close he could feel her soft breath tickle across his flesh.

His situation was becoming increasingly desperate, and without thinking he cleared his throat and blurted the first response that came to mind. "Y-you do? Are you telling me that you know how I feel…about-"

"Of course I do." Catherine's voice died to a whisper, and despite the eagerness in her eyes her serious expression remained unaltered. The young lord tried not to choke from realizing her reply had left him breathless, and the fact their faces nearly touched left his lips hungering to cover hers in a kiss. Before he could gather whatever courage he had, all the nerves in his body shattered when she pulled away. "You're thinking about Lord Bernhard. You still believe he is up to something, and tis' no wonder you're having difficulty keeping yourself focused today."

He tried to contain his composure, but his widening eyes betrayed his flurry of emotions resulting from Catherine's inquisitive gaze. Joachim withdrew a deep breath, and looked her in the eyes, daring the softened words to slip from his lips. "I was _not_ thinking about Walter, Catherine. I was thinking about _you_."

"_Me_?" Catherine breathed in surprise, and her glittering eyes blinked several times. "You were thinking about me? Why?" Joachim looked at her innocent face, so full of concern and surprised that her observation was the farthest thing from his mind.

"Well…" he slid his hand over hers, but she made no motion to pull away as he continued. "I have heard things as of late. One such thing I heard is that your father wants you to be married, and if you do not choose a husband he will choose one for you. Is this true?" he noticed Catherine's lips tremble, and the bright glitter in her eyes became dull as if his very question had instantaneously thrown her into internal chaos.

She lowered her head, causing her thick ringlets to brush against her cheeks and hide the tears threatening to fall. "How did you…know?" she whispered.

"Catherine, that is why I have been meaning to ask you something…" he could feel the intensity of her eyes gazing at him behind her thick raven hair, and only when she brushed them away that he saw her eyes were filled with tears. He reached and wiped them away, while his other hand tightened around hers. "You and I have been friends for so long I cannot think of a time without you. Every day I have silently adored you, and to imagine some other man will take you away from me…is more than I can bear. We have gone through so much together as children…and I long to spend the rest of my days with you by my side." Joachim watched Catherine's lips part as though she would speak, but not a sound escaped her, though within his mind he knew there was no turning back. He lifted her hand and eased it toward his lips, however her feigned composure spoke for itself, even when his instincts screamed she had already given her answer. "Please Catherine," A part of him still clung to hope, but all of it was denied by her wordless reply. "I am a Lord, and I have financial security – everything your father wants you to have! I would do anything for you-"

"You would?" Catherine's voice broke into a tearful sob, and without the slightest hint of warning she pulled her hand away and scrambled to her feet. "If you would do anything for me, I must ask you to never bring this up again!" she buried her face in her hands and wept, but did not see him stagger to his feet, nor see the flash of regret in his eyes. Joachim approached her and placed his arm around her back, pulling her toward him, so when she rested her face on his chest he would not let his body collapse from the sheer pain he had wrought – not only in her but also in himself.

"But why, Catherine?" He could not rid himself of the hollow feeling inside that made him incomplete and all the more pathetic in the eyes of the world. "Why must this be forgotten? I hoped you would accept for so long now, and you seem so joyful whenever we are together-"

"You do not understand. My father would never allow it." her words were barely audible between her sobs, but she pulled her face away and looked up at his stricken expression. Her face was blotched red by tears and her hands trembled, though one of them grasped his and held it again. "What good would come if we married? You are so very ill…and my father fears that your illness could be inherited. Believe me, I think that is untrue, but he would not hear otherwise. He never wanted me to see you when we were young, and even now I have defied him because I care about you…and I wish it did not have to be this way…"

"So you're saying you will not wed me because your father thinks I am diseased?" Joachim backed away from her touch, his lips curling to the point the fire in his eyes matched his scowl. "If you really cared about me, you would not let that stop you! Why should your father be able to tell you whom you can or cannot marry? You are a human being no different than I. I have seen you think, heard you speak, watched you carry out your intentions – and you are more than worthy of living the life you desire. Though I am ill, I would live for you. My status as a Lord is enough to sanction this marriage with or without your father's consent. I care not if the villagers or my fellow noblemen object to this union. My heart is set on you and no one else."

He could not fathom the situation no matter how intently he tried to analyze it – there was no sense of reason to be found. Nonetheless, the very sight of her eyes glistening with tears made his heart ache, but her reply still put all his remaining hopes asunder.

"I cannot marry you, Joachim. I wish you never brought it up! I was content to be your friend, for you have been alone in your life, but I cannot give you anything more."

"So be it then, but I will not allow you to treat me like a sickly child anymore! Why don't you marry Lord Bernhard then? I am certain your father would find him more suitable than I. You believe everything Walter says after all, and like Jezebel and Emmaline, you pine for him so badly it makes me want to wretch!" He turned his back and began to stomp across the field, but stopped when he heard Catherine shout at him from behind. Her voice was a shrill cry carried by the wind that haunted him when he did not turn to face her. The jumbled array of thoughts and feelings coursing through him was enough to keep him staring ahead.

"If you think my worrying over you is treating you like a child then so be it! Your soul is weighted down by your pain, and I never wanted to cause you that, but if you allow it to consume you then you will become no different than your father in the end."

He refused to look at her, and although every fiber of him threatened to break apart, he held his head high and mounted his horse. "I never want to hear you speak of my father again. Ever." The lord's head lowered, curtaining his sorrow-ridden eyes behind strands of silky white hair while he gave Cojiro a sharp nudge with his heels and urged the horse into a gallop. He knew she had listened to his last words, and tried to unsuccessfully block out the sounds of her returned sobs. Within moments, his horse's hooves pounded against the grass and stifled her voice from reaching his ears. There was nowhere he could go that would free him from the entrapment of his fate, and no matter what he did, there was nowhere he could free himself from his own heart.


	8. Chapter 8: Requiem

**Author's Note: **For some reason I decided to add another chapter. (yay!) I am trying to keep things moving because this story is so long. I hope more people will review, too. :D If you are wondering: "_when the HECK is Joachim going to be turned into a vampire_? It's been eight chapters, already!"

I assure you, I am going to get to that important part soon. _Too many _stories focus on Joachim when he IS a vampire instead of when he is human. Part of what makes Joachim so interesting and mysterious is his humanity, in my opinion. Do not worry. There will be plenty of gore, violence, death, destruction, angst, torture, sex, and action coming up in the story before you know it (yay?) ha ha. (_O)

To **Rahar Moonfire**: As always, thank you again for reviewing my story. I am astonished and pleased by the speed in which you read and review these chapters. Also, I am beginning to wonder if, perhaps, you are the only person following my story? (haha) some people are intimidated by lengthy fanfiction. I hope you don't think Catherine is a Mary-Sue. I was trying to avoid turning her into that kind of female character. I think in this story, Walter likes Joachim more than Joachim likes him...which might imply a "one-sided" slash pairing. Poor Joachim. (T_T)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Castlevania, Joachim, or any LoI Konami characters.

This chapter is a **FLASHBACK **to an event that happened just before Joachim's birthday in Chapter I

**Chapter VIII**

**~*FLASHBACK*~**

"Joachim, your father is in need of you now."

Joachim sat at his desk within his chamber, scrawling attentive notes from mathematical calculations. When the words spilled and interrupted his thoughts, his head shot up from his paper and stared at Kyran dressed in formal red robes standing in the doorway. "My father? He is back already? How unexpected." He sat back in his chair, ignoring the man for a moment long enough to ponder the subject.

The moment he began he was interrupted. "Something is terribly wrong with Lord Armster. I suggest you see him immediately if you are interested in finding out for yourself."

Joachim found his thoughts lingering, and with an irritated glance he rose slowly from his chair. The finely made and newly bought dark indigo colored robes and vest plate added to his grown height and stunning blue eyes that could pierce any man's soul with hardly a glance. "Why must I come when he summons me? I am no longer a child under his authority."

"This is serious." Kyran replied, a hint of urgency in his voice. "Lord Armster returned early from the East and arrived looking as pale as death. There are bite marks on his neck which is a clear sign that a demon bat has bitten him."

Joachim furrowed his brow and stared expectantly as if demanding more detail, but when none came a disdained sigh parted from his lips. "Very well. I doubt a 'demon' bat did that, for none of us should resort to paranoid conclusions. Do you even know why he returned early? My father was not due to return to Creightel until ten months from now."

The vassal shook his head, his silvery eyes glinting with uncertainty. "I do not. Lord Armster has been unable to speak since he collapsed on the manor steps. Lord knows how he made it this far, considering…"

Joachim waved a hand at him and started for the door, his stance straight when he walked while the tails of his robe swished softly with his steps. "The fact is, Lord Zaeviean now knows what it feels like to be sickly and weak. I will go to him, and let us hope he will be able to speak when I do." With a piercing glare at the vassal he departed from his chamber and swept through the hallways of Armster Manor. Servants bounded about carrying trays and blankets, and he followed them unhurriedly until he came upon a dimly it room. The young man peered through the doorway at the large canopied bed in the center of the room. His father had rather particular taste. The bedcovers were made of fine satin and dark blue in color, matching the drapes blocking out the sunlight. Joachim hesitated before entering the room. Now it was he who to visited his bedridden father, for their roles had been unexpectedly reversed. Despite remembering how Lord Zaeviean mocked him, ridiculed him, and even beat him occasionally – some part of the young man loved him. Because, he knew, his father did not want him to love him. Even Joachim's love for his own father was in defiance of the man's hatred of him. A gentle sigh parted through his lips before he walked into his father's chamber. The room reminded him of things he had seen as a child, things he did not wish to remember…

His steps became slower and softer, his boots making only soft thumps over the carpet when he approached the bed. The young man's vigilant eyes immediately noticed his father lying in the bed, his eyes closed and lips so dry that they cracked and bled. Lord Zaeviean was so pale that his skin almost matched his hair, which fell around his face and down his shoulders in untidy waves. The lord did not stir, even when Joachim took a step closer, his voice saying in a low whisper. "Father?" His lack of concern quickly turned into apprehension. "What happened to you? You look as white as death…" In frustration to find the man had not responded, he pulled up a chair and sat down, his eyes lingering on the thin form lying in the bed. He brushed away a few strands of his father's ivory hair before gently pushing back the blankets. To his surprise, the right side of the man's neck was swollen and red. "Did something bite you? It looks like a bat's bite…or did an animal attack you during your travels?"

He stared at the two small puncture marks in his neck. Whatever attacked had left a clean mark. However, when he touched his father's cheek, he quickly pulled away upon feeling an icy chill flood through him. Lord Zaeviean's skin was cold and glistened with perspiration. Yet, the man's body temperature was so low it was impossible for him to have a fever. Joachim cocked his head, eyeing the wound on his father's neck suspiciously. "Perhaps whatever bit you has infected you with a disease? Let it not be a plague…" It took only one case of sickness to infect a whole village. He remembered hearing Maurizio tell him stories about the occupants of entire villages simply disappearing in the span of a few months. Joachim took a step back from the bed and continued to stare at his father, his pale blue eyes widening. Suddenly, his father's lips twitched as if to speak but no sound escaped them. The lord tossed his head, letting out a short gasp in pain. "Father!" Joachim cried and kneeled at his father's bedside. He reached out and grasped his father's hand in his. The lord's cold flesh unnerved him but he refused to leave his side for even a moment. "I am here for you, father." He said in a soothing voice, pressing his father's hand to his lips in a small display of affection. "No matter what, I will not leave you. I promise." He was about to summon one of his servants for more blankets, when suddenly a dark figure appeared in the doorway. Joachim jumped upon hearing a familiar voice address him.

"Hello, my child." The figure was none other than Father Genesio, the local priest. The man wore a black cassock and was in his early forties. Though strict, he was a devout Catholic, well versed in both Christian theology as well as literature. His once thick, raven hair had turned a shade of dark gray over the years.

Though not a particularly tall individual, his presence started Joachim, who bowed his head respectfully. The young man stood up, his indigo colored robes flowing with his movements, whilst he brushed aside strands of his thick, ashen hair. His calm demeanor concealed the turmoil of unease that surging through him. "Father Genesio. What brings you here?" He asked, keeping his voice quiet as to avoid disturbing his father.

"I have heard of your father's illness," The priest replied, revealing a Bible in one hand and a wooden cross in the other. "I have come to see Lord Armster. Vassal Kyran was concerned about the cause of his illness. Some of the villagers fear that he was bitten by a vampire."

The priest's eyes surveyed the figure lying in the bed. Joachim watched him approach and set the bible down next to his father. Almost instantly, Lord Zaeviean's eyes sprung open and stared up at the ceiling as one of his hands violenely knocked the Bible onto the floor. "Calm down milord," The priest soothed, leaning over to examine the lord's wounded neck. "You are in bed now and safe. God is watching over you and will make you well again so long as your faith in him remains strong."

Joachim nearly got up when the priest laid a hand upon his father's neck, causing the lord to stir in his sleep. "I see." The priest's voice became somber, his form stiffening when he added under his breath. "It seems I am too late."

"What are you talking about?" Joachim stared at the priest apprehensively, his brow furrowing when the man's soft gray eyes locked with his.

"Your father is very ill." Father Genesio began while turning away from the bedridden lord. "I can tell from looking at him that he has almost no blood left, which has made his skin turn pale. The only comfort I can recommend is to pray for his soul.

"Joachim folded his arms across his chest and spat in disbelief. "Soul? It is his body that is injured, not his soul."

The priest continued to gaze at him, his eyes calm but sorrowful. His lips curved into a frown, which made him appear old and worn. Years in the priesthood, it seemed, was taking its toll. "My poor child, his soul is in jeopardy, not just his body. The body is merely a shell for the soul. Lord Armster has grown so weak that at any given moment, he is capable of becoming a creature of the night-"

"Stop saying that!" Joachim interrupted, his eyes blazing as he clenched his hands into fists. "I will not listen to such tales! My father has been bitten by a diseased bat. That is all. It has nothing to do with vampirism!"

Without batting an eyelid, Genesio tied the wooden cross to the bedpost. The young man watched in silent disgust, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the priest in annoyance.

"Please child, the only thing God asks of you is to pray. Your father needs prayer, though if it is God's will he will ascend into heaven and not be damned-"

"God's will or not, I will hear no more of this! Leave me in peace." Joachim's lips formed into a scowl so deep he could have struck the priest across the face if the man mentioned vampires again. How he hated the fact that legends had become real for most people in Romania. Such things did not exist in civilized countries, he thought. It was the duty of the local priests to dispel such rumors. However, he knew that vampires and witches were beneficial to the Catholic church whether they existed or not. Feeding off people's fears was, apparently, a rather clever way to entice people into following the church. And, of course, more followers meant greater donations to 'the cause' to root out witches and the like. The sight of the man's black cassock made his teeth clench together, his eyes trailing after the priest in silent fury, waiting for the man to leave.

Father Genesio whirled to face the young man after picking the Bible off the floor. "As you wish, child." He said, his voice revealing a twinge of offence from the command.

"However, you are to say twenty hail Mary's and repent for your sinfulness. Have you learned nothing after all these years following God's will? I suggest you look in this sacred book again and re-read a few passages on faith. God is more forgiving than I. You have much to learn and be thankful for. Now, I want to hear you say at least one Hail Mary before I leave."

Joachim bowed his head, and despite his willingness to defy he had held himself back whenever around Father Genesio. So many times during his youth he spoke the Hail Mary's because of his swift tongue, and with reluctant compliance he spoke the prayer in a low mumble. "_Hail Mary, full of grace the lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen._" He paused and looked up to see the priest nod when he took the Bible form his hands and clasped it securely.

"Now then," Father Genesio continued. "You are to say that nineteen more times without complaint. Then, you are to pray for your father's soul and ask the Lord to be merciful." The old priest gave him a weak smile, his dim gray eyes lightening from the fact that the young man had obeyed him without another objection. "My child, you are in my prayers as well. I will visit again tomorrow."

"You have my gratitude." Joachim whispered, pretending to seem appreciative, though his lips barely moved and his voice was monotone. So many times he had wanted to curse the Hail Mary prayer, but even when he avoided following through the old priest always had a way of knowing when their eyes locked and he saw through him as easily as if his heart was made of glass. The result was that he completed his requirement without complaint, and he bit every objection throbbing to escape his tongue when he understood his heart was not where his words lay. In fact, the priest had given him so many Hail Mary's from his outbursts that sometimes Joachim just said them without even being prompted. Again he repeated the prayer when the priest left the room, saying it under his breath as his eyes strayed to his father lying unmoving in the bed. "_Hail Mary, full of grace the lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen_." He repeated the prayer while he sat down and stared at his father, his eyes dim and unblinking as the words mechanically left his mouth. When at last he finished, he opened the Bible and read a few passages aloud to his father. The words had been written in the priest's own hand. Joachim spent the hours reading through until the sunlight faded into the darkness of night. Not once did he leave his father's side.

The day passed slowly and silently. Lord Zaeviean's condition had worsened until, in the middle of the night, he had to summon Father Genesio. The priest stood at the side of the bed, gazing down at the man whose breathes were growing shallow and weak. "Joachim." Genesio turned suddenly to him, a grave look washing across his face. "I am afraid Lord Armster is too weak. I do not mean to offend, however…"

Joachim leaned back in the chair of which he had grown accustomed to through his weeks, and stared at the frail figure lying in the bed, nodding silently. The priest gazed at him another moment before stepping close to the bed and leaning over and speaking softly to the dying lord. "Do you wish to make your confessions now Lord Zaeviean Armster?" Father Genesio's hand trailed to the lord's frail one and rested upon it. Joachim watched his father's fingers squeeze the priest's hand so lightly it was hardly noticeable. "Very well." Genesio continued, his voice softening. "Are you sorry for all the sins of your life and for offending the Almighty God?"

Joachim continued to watch, so overwhelmed by the situation that he was unable to find the words he wished to say. He watched his father's hand squeeze the priest's in acknowledgement. It was then that the lord's icy blue eyes opened and diverted to his son. Father Genesio swallowed hard and continued to recite the final words of absolution while tracing a cross over his forehead with his other hand. "_Ego te absolvo…in nominee Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen._" He let go when the man closed his eyes again, and slowly stepped back. "I shall leave you alone with him, Joachim. If God takes him tonight he is now prepared for it." The priest gave a sympathetic look, his hand reaching out and touching the young man's shoulder. Joachim squirmed under Genesio's bony fingers, ignoring the gesture as he approached his father's bedside and kneeled there. He was so absorbed in the fact that his father was looking at him that he did not even notice the priest leave the room.

"So many times you made me cry…and now you're doing that to me all over again. Why do I feel like I must mourn you when you would not so much as care for me? Perhaps I am only doing what a dutiful son would to remain at your bedside during your last hour, but you are and always will be my father." He whispered gently, his eyes transfixed by the dying man. All the color had drained from his father's skin, leaving only a pale shell of a once proud man. The wound on the lord's neck remained red and swollen, despite Joachim's attempts to soothe it with herbs and ointments. Not even Catherine's healing remedies, which were passed down by generations of gypsies, succeeded in healing the wound. Joachim sat on the edge of the bed for a long time, staring down at the man's face. Finally, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against his father's forehead, closing his eyes as he whispered in a voice choked with tears. "I forgive you…"

He opened his eyes and gasped, noticing that his father was looking at him gently for the first time. He had never seen the man look at him that way. Joachim reached out a shaking hand, touching his father's cheek. He shuddered upon finding that the man's flesh was colder than before. When he grabbed the bell to summon a servant, he stopped when he realized that the man's chest had fallen still. Tears slipped down his cheeks and dripped off his chin as he sat there, unable to move, his eyes gazing down at his father's lifeless body. Before he even realized it, his lips parted, whispering the admission he wished his father had said to him.

"_I love you, father." _


	9. Chapter 9: Fire and Ice

**Author's Note: **I have been adding new chapters like crazy lately to keep the story moving. Hopefully, those who like the conflict between Joachim and Walter will find this chapter interesting.

Also, the crystal Catherine gave Joachim has some significance. I was looking at Konami's official artwork of Joachim and noticed that there was a crystal-like pendant/object/decoration dangling from his robes. I was curious about it and decided to give it some special significance for Joachim in my story.

As always, reviews are appreciated. Special thanks go to **Rahar Moonfire **for reviewing every chapter I have posted thus far. :) *cheers*

**Disclaimer: **Castlevania and it's characters are copyrighted by Konami.

**Chapter IX**

Joachim sank into the chair and without realizing it, his fingernails dug into the soft velvet fabric. Only a single bout of rage could send his entire world into turmoil. Catherine would never love him. Indeed, if things continued deteriorating, she would possibly never speak to him again. He could not decide which of the two was worse, but each one succeeded in ripping a piece away from his heart. It was difficult for him to think, let alone move, but he managed to gaze at his father's portrait hanging above the mantle. Zaeviean's cold eyes were cold and indifferent. Joachim hated having the portrait displayed on the wall for him to see almost every evening in his room of relaxation, since rather than relaxing him the picture always unnerved him and drew his eyes to his father's cold expressionless visage of great dignity and great brutality.

"Father…what should I do? What can I do? Since you died…nothing has turned in my favor…and now I am ruining the Armster name. Just like you said I would. Damn you for being right…" he shook his head and tried to clear his mind, but his father's icy expression still lingered even when he avoided looking at it. Part of him wanted to get up and throw the portrait into the fire, but for some reason, he could not gather the nerve. His heart still lingered on Catherine, still lingered on the harsh exchange of words they shared, the knowledge she had other ambitions in mind that had no use for him. Why would they? After all, while trying to prove he was worthy of his Lordship, he only proved that he was riddled with weaknesses. Not only that, but the village was in a state of turmoil. He could almost feel the tension hanging in the air whenever the peasants saw him in the streets. It would not be long before they made their grief and rage known…

"I am certainly not any use sitting here." He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. For a brief moment he remained silent, but as the time passed he felt a heavy weight upon his shoulder. At first he thought it might have been the weight of his chest armor taking its toll upon his exhausted frame, but the weight he experienced seemed to grasp his shoulder rather than rest upon it. Just as the startling realization occurred to him, a familiar voice broke his chain of thought. "_Lord Joachim_." His eyes flew open immediately to the sound, and he almost leapt up at the sight of Walter standing very calmly next to his chair. The dim flames from the fire cast a soft glow across Walter's pallid face, and within his dark alluring stare a strange glint reflected the moment Joachim's eyes looked into his.

"What in God's name are you doing here?" Joachim squirmed beneath the man's heavy touch as his hand flew to his side to draw his sword.

"I have come to pay you a visit, do forgive me for startling you." A steady smile crept across Walter's lips, his gaze following Joachim's frenzied attempt to find his sword.

The youth made a dismayed gasp upon realizing he had not had it with him the whole day, making the situation itself ridiculous – a swordsman without a sword. He could have truly used one then, but resigned himself to answering his uninvited guest. "I am afraid I am in no mood to forgive you until you tell me how you managed to get inside my home! Have you no respect?"

The man's smile broadened. Curtains of lush red hair fell lightly against his face as he lifted his hand away. "Your servants admitted me inside. I came last night with Lady Catherine to put you to bed, and I have returned to see if you are well, and to compliment you for your exquisite taste in tapestry. I cannot recall another time when I have entered a place of such remarkable design."

Although his smile attempted to ease his discomfort, Joachim found it about as comforting as listening to Father Genesio's two hour long mass at the cathedral. "Why did you not have them inform me previous to you bombarding your way in here?"

Joachim cast him a glimpse of his incensed glare, but yet again the fellow lord attempted quiet appeasement. "I would not call my arrival a bombardment, due to the fact I made every effort to leave you undisturbed. Ah, that sharp glare of yours is enough of an answer for me to know you have recovered."

"Yes I have, and now that you have found out…I must ask you-" Joachim felt his throat constrict when the man's dark eyes flickered.

"You must ask me to _what_?"

The young lord stiffened in his chair upon noticing Walter's armored frame move around it with cat-like steps. It was no surprise why he did not hear the other Lord arrive – his steps were so quiet it seemed he took care to ensure everything he did was undetectable. "I have things to attend to." Joachim shifted in his chair, feeling Walter's presence standing in front of him without daring long enough to lift his eyes and have his nerves captured by his visitor's polite curiosity.

Although another empty chair was next to his own, Walter made no indication of wanting to sit down. It seemed he was content watching the youth's every move, as well as in taking silent intrigue in the way Joachim's lips curled from having unwanted company. With a thoughtful sigh, Walter leaned casually against the mantle of the fire, despite the evident sign of protest Joachim did not fail to hide in his icy glare. "I am not surprised you would try to occupy yourself in hopes of sending me away." The amused smile vanished from his lips. "Are your thoughts consumed by the deaths that have stricken this village? Or is it perhaps that and something else? It must be difficult to manage the responsibilities of your family alone. I can relate, for I was thrust into tasks of similar hardship at an early age. It is I alone who oversees my castle."

"My personal concerns are none of your business. My father managed most of the estate on his own, and I believe I can do the same. You fail to realize there is no actual Armster _family_. That is because _I _am all that remains of a dying bloodline."

Joachim noticed Walter stir in place but tried to relax under the warmth of the fire. "That is a shame." Walter mused. "Though it does not surprise me your father abstained from remarrying…" Walter's voice was barely audible, though it was strained by something Joachim could not comprehend. Walter sighed as Joachim leaned forward to catch a closer glimpse of the lord's downcast expression. However, Joachim pressed his back against, realizing that Walter was not unaware of the fact he was watching him closely.

"What do you mean?" Joachim was reluctant to admit that his unexpected guest spoke in a very eloquent manner. Walter broke their mutual gaze with a sort of reluctance, his eyes at the portrait of Lord Armster.

"Lord Zaeviean and I did not always see eye to eye on certain matters. Nevertheless..." Another silence filled the room. Joachim found that words were useless whenever he discussed his father. As far as he was concerned, Lord Zaeviean was dead – what did the past matter now? The armor covering Walter's body blocked the fire's light as he turned and looked upon the young heir to the Armster name, his form shadowing Joachim, whose fingers clung firmly to the arms of the chair.

A renewed sting of loathing coursed through Joachim while Walter's glinting eyes surveyed him carefully. "You are the very image of your father." His voice softened, but Joachim still could find nothing to say when the man began to walk toward him. The light from the fire no longer cast the warm glow across his features, and the young lord felt his breath leave his lungs. Walter's flesh was so pale in color it made the glint in his eyes adopt an ominous magnetism. Joachim had not noticed the man's paleness in the tavern, but when he sawWalter in the dark the previous night, the image of glowing red eyes consumed his thoughts. The other lord approached him a sort of predatory-like fashion, his steps stealthy and cautious. Joachim tried to dismiss such wild thoughts. The longer he gazed at Walter's majestic countenance, the less he believed that what he saw could have been real. Of course it wasn't! Perhaps was overcome with fatigue and hallucinated. Considering how ill he felt at the time…

Walter came within a few inches of the young lord sitting in the chair. Every nerve within Joachim's body turned to ice as one of Walter's gauntlet-covered hands touched his cheek. A flood of anxiety filled him, yet he could not pull away, even as Walter gently took his chin in his hand and raised his head. Before he could gasp in surprise, his eyes locked with Walter's. The other lord's fine lips formed a slight smile, his deep voice fading into a whisper. "If I did not know otherwise, I would say your father created you in his own image. Lord Zaeviean was an attractive man - a man who coveted only what rivaled his beauty. You inherited his blood and yet you remain in solitude...which was so very like him." Walter's hand slid slowly down his face until it pranced across the tender flesh of his neck. Joachim dare not move as the other lord's fingers lingered upon the most tender region of his neck where his pulse thumped rapidly beneath a veil of pallid flesh.

Walter's face drew so close that Joachim barely felt the light touch of the man's lips playing across his own. "I did not lie when I spoke of your beauty. Have you no knowledge of your own magnificence? Has not a single woman dared to try and lure your gorgeous body into bed?"

"…No. Throughout my life, I have refused to fall into the trap of lust, and I refuse to fall into yours. Such lustful actions produce nothing." Joachim shifted his face away from the touch, shivering at the mere prospect of what the lord implied.

"So you have kept that enviable body pure all this time." He sensed Walter's eyes probing him, watching the way his lips became taut in growing discomfort. "You are already twenty years of age, and your body has become of age along with your mind. Purity is a virtue that cannot be retained forever. If you consider yourself a true lord, the legacy of your family must continue on. It surprises me that Lord Zaeviean produced an heir…considering his cold disposition-"

"Be silent!" Joachim snapped, his temper rising from the man's implication. The young man's hands clenched into fists, his body trembling as he continued. "I will not hear you speak such disrespectful lies! My father loved my mother, and I wish to discuss no more of this with you!" Joachim's lips made a downward curve of repugnance, but already the ideas presented through the topic began to seep into his thoughts. All his life he had been alone denying his body his desires, or perhaps, withholding them secretly. Although he loathed Walter, he could not hide the fact that he was ensnared in the man's trap.

A knowing smile resumed to cross Walter's lips from the uneasy silence he received. "Perhaps, Lord Zaeviean loved her, if love is possessive. If rape is the only way of expressing love-"

"You despicable bas-" A blaze of fury reflected in Joachim's eyes, but as quick as his fist rose to strike it was caught within the powerful grip of the other lord. Walter's hold was vice-like, like the talon of a great eagle snatching its prey. Joachim emitted only a gasp from feeling every bone in his hand threaten to snap like twigs under the man's restraint. Indeed, Walter could have broken his wrist without a second thought, for a mere twist of his powerful arm could have produced unbearable pain. Yet, somehow, the other lord remained eerily composed despite Joachim's ostentatious remarks. His gauntlet-covered fingers wound between the young man's, in a gentle display of affection, though also to secure him.

Before Joachim could try pulling away, a loud laugh escaped Walter's throat as his dark, glittering eyes gazed upon him in amusement. "You are very protective of your father, despite how your eyes betray your fear of him. A woman like your mother could never have married him willingly."

"Get out!" Joachim croaked, feeling his throat tighten, his breaths quickening until Walter's hand slipped away from his. "If you refuse to leave this moment I will rip your throat out with my bare hands!"

"If my words disgust you, it is simply because you are avoiding the truth." Walter answered before allowing a quiet sigh to escape from his lips. Despite his calm expression, the downward curl of his lips revealed that he was no longer amused by the young man's defensiveness."There is someone else who fills you with more disgust than I. Someone you know quite well, whom lights your soul afire with sinful thoughts and desires. I know your feelings for her bring you to the brink of your self-restraint. You would never act upon your desires, of course, for you are ill. Though…_if you bed with her, your blood will become hers_. Perhaps, it is inevitable."

"Shut up! You say nothing except lies!" Joachim's voice to nearly rose a scream when he bolted from his chair and attempted to strike Walter across the face. However, the moment he drew his hand back, he found himself unable to move under the man's alluring gaze. Whether the fire's light was playing tricks on him, he could not say, except that a strange red flicker appeared in the man's eyes at that precise moment. A surge of weakness overcame the young man and his vision became unfocused, forcing him to retreat to his chair. Despite his failure to harm the other lord, a spark of indignation flickered in his hardened blue eyes when Walter spoke.

"You prove to be the image of a great lord – just like your father." Walter replied casually, ignoring the young man's failed attempt to subdue him as if he were merely a fly. "The only aspect that makes you far easier to break is the fact your emotions are brittle. Especially concerning that gypsy, Catherine-"

"Get out. Now." Walter did not even bat an eyelid as Joachim rose out of his chair, his eyes glinting like daggers under the dim glow of the fire. His voice became deathly quiet. "My village is in danger – and it is rather odd that it all began the night you arrived." He cocked his head, maintaining the suspicious look in his eyes as the corners of Walter returned it with a bemused grin. When they stood face-to-face, the contrast between Walter's strong, armored form and Joachim's pale and feeble one was extremely telling.

Joachim remembered that if Walter was in fact the murderer, the man was capable of breaking his neck as easily as a chicken's if it suited him. It also occurred to him, though only fleetingly, that whenever Walter smiled his teeth were never visible. Walter's lips had curved into a mocking grin, his dark eyes delighting in his success at angering him. Nevertheless, the young nobleman lifted his head and held it high. Joachim was slender and graceful - pale but also gracious and proud, determined to uphold the nobility he inherited on day of his birth. "You can't turn me into your marionette, Walter." He hissed. "I am Lord Zaeviean's son, and no one will tell me what to do in my own manor. I will uphold the safety of this village and if you are the one harming people, I will ensure you are punished severely for it. The villagers are fools for believing in nonsense like vampires. The only things they have to fear are their fellow man – and perhaps that man is you." Joachim could see a glimmer of rage appear within Walter's dark eyes. "Human lore is so primitive! One way or another; the truth will be known. I look forward to hanging you if my suspicions are proven correct."

"So you assume, young lord." Walter scoffed, huffing under his breath when he added confidently. "The truth is not always easy to accept. Jumping to conclusions is a precarious method of seeking answers. You forget that, unlike you, the villagers hold me in high esteem. You best hold your tongue unless you have evidence to confirm my guilt." The red-haired lord swept so close Joachim felt his body shudder when his fingers touched his face. By then his voice was so dark not even the shadows could match the eerie way it filled the room. "Vampires are as real as you are. If you were wise, you would not dismiss the warnings of your subjects. Vampires should be taken very seriously – considering that many vampire clans have a long history in this region. If a vampire desired it, someone as weak as yourself would be as easy to slaughter as a lamb. However…a body like yours, possessing grace and form unlike any other, would make an ideal immortal."

"I will have my servants escort you out." Joachim jerked his head back and ushered to the open door; however, the lord turned away before he could even reach for the servant's bell on the table.

"That is unnecessary." Walter snarled under his breath, making his way toward the doorway. Seconds before the soles of his armored boots echoed beyond the room, he paused. "Joachim – our conversation is not over. For now I merely leave you in peace to contemplate how you intend to resolve the deaths plaguing your village. Very soon, you will realize that what you are dealing with exceeds your insignificant power on every level. Until then, I bid you good morrow, Lord Armster."

Joachim eyes followed Walter as he departed out of sight. So many things had been discussed in such a short period of time, and he could barely grasp what had just happened before Walter left. Perhaps Walter's eccentric suggestions about his father were true? Lord Zaeviean had always been cruel to him, and the darkest part of his soul dared to think his father had f**o**rced his mother to have his child. That thought alone made the fragile young man shudder with humiliation.

With a heavy sigh, Joachim paced around the room until suddenly halting in front of a small mirror hanging on the wall near the fireplace. The despondent lord dared to steal a glance at his reflection in the mirror, though even his fleeting gaze confirmed the fear and shame in his eyes.

Walter was right.

Despite his youth, Joachim's face was sickly white and his pale blue irises exposed his ill and weakened state. It was not surprising that his subjects thought so little of him. A profound sadness flickered in his eyes, whilst his lips curled and his shoulders sank back, allowing his weakened state to show despite his regal armour and robes. If it were not for his wealth – which financed the extensive medical attention he required – he was certain that he would have died during infancy. The young man's lips tried to smile, attempting to thank God for the fact he still lived, however he grimaced instead, his voice shaking as he said to himself. "Tis' no wonder why father was embarrassed to admit he had a son. How he must have dismayed every time he looked upon my face, knowing I could never become a great knight or even a worthy lord. No woman would ever desire to carry my seed in her womb – the progeny of an ill, weak, abomination…"

The frown he wore deepened when he touched a hand against his cheek. No matter how hard he tried, he would never be his father. The hope of his family line would be doomed.

"Forgive me for failing you, father."


	10. Chapter 10: Moonlight

**A****uthor's Notes:** Here it is. The very first LEMON chapter in my story (as well as the first lemon I have ever written). I am not even going to pretend that I am good at writing these, however I hope it will suffice. If you are waiting for some "action" to happen between Joachim and Walter, the next chapter will feature some. Now you might understand why this fic deserves it's M rating. I am not into writing extremely grapic/disgusting lemons so I apologize in advance if you were hoping for something more. Also, just a note, the story will get a bit intense from this point on...

Special Thanks:

**Rahar Moonfire:** As always, you are a fast and great reviewer! I hope my story never gets boring so you will continue reading. Also, thank you for your constructive criticism. I wrote this story five years ago so I'm afraid that I am still correcting my horrible grammar. I am planning to go through it again and fix some of the errors that I missed. :) I have to admit, I'm nervous about my lemon chapter since I had never done one before and I hope it doesn't suck/seem awkward. I was looking over the next chapter and decided that it needed more JoachimXWalter stuff as well, so you will probably get your wish to see more development in *that* relationship. :D

**HappyDragon411:** Thank you for taking the time to review my story. I am glad to see that you enjoy it and are interested in how it will develop. Even if you don't review every single chapter, as an author, I love hearing what people think. The story will be long and I intend to update it often unless I need time to edit and make changes. Also, I am glad to hear that you think my original characters 'work' in this story, which was one of my biggest concerns. I wanted my story to be realistic (even though it is about vampires) and decided that Joachim's albinism would fit perfectly into Konami's portrayal of him. The fact that you are reading my work makes writing it worthwhile. I hope you will continue reading and look forward to hearing from you again in the near future. :)

As always, reviews are appreciated.

**Chapter X**

The following afternoon, the sky was covered in a blanket of dull gray clouds. The only cheerful objects to ward away the dreary autumn weather were the formerly green leaves of the trees slowly changing to gold, brown and red. Joachim gazed out the large windows of his father's study. Before turning to sit in his chair, he glanced at Kyran, who was walking about the chamber carrying a piece of parchment and a quill. Every time the vassal stopped, his form hunched over, and one of his silvery eyes would linger upon the young lord before glancing away the moment Joachim's attempted to catch him in the act. For almost a half hour they had played their silent game of trying to interpret one other, with neither making progress.

"Milord, you must deal with these murders! They are getting out of control!" Kyran's rough voice attempted to jolt the young man back into reality, but Joachim had barely heard him speak, due to being lost in thought. "_Lord Armster_?" Kyran's steely gaze locked upon the despondent youth, whose pale form seemed to disappear. "What shall you do? Did you not hear about the bodies discovered this morning? What sort of despicable scoundrel would strip two men of their clothes and leave their corpses to rot in the streets? To think women and children have been exposed to such atrocities…" His elderly frame sank into a chair in front of the desk. Joachim could not find the will to look up.

What he managed to mumble in response did not match the despair gradually enveloping him. "Believe me, I was awoken and informed by one of my servants. If those two men were found unclothed, they may have been the murderer's willing companions with other intentions in mind before they were slain. Were they both not vagabonds from Brendelham?"

"Yes, but one of them was traveling through here to visit an uncle, and neither caused disruption within Creightel. After questioning the uncle, Maurizio informed me they decided to depart at nightfall. Those fools should have known the dangers that lurk at nighttime." Kyran's steady gaze probed Joachim carefully, but the young lord's thoughts were elsewhere. "You do not look well today milord." The vassal's statement was obvious. Even though Joachim had rested most of the day, his eyes revealed his weariness, and his skin was so pale that he resembled a ghost. Severe headaches plagued him throughout the day, and whenever he tried to walk, he was overcome with exhaustion.

Walter's visit the previous night left him restless and filled with nightmares. He slept so little that by the time the cathedral's bells tolled at dawn; he had just begun to slip into a semi-restful state. That came to an abrupt end when a servant rapped on his bedroom door and told him about the latest murder spree. The young man tried to comprehend what was happening to his once peaceful village, where not a single person had to walk the streets by night or daylight in fear, and mothers allowed their children to play well past the hour of sunset. As if instantly, people began locking their doors and latching their shutters, and it was rare for him to look out the windows of his manor and see even one child skipping down the village's cobblestone roads. Everything he remembered about his village was changing…

"Milord?" Kyran's persistence caused an irritated glimmer to reap through Joachim's stagnant blue eyes. It had been long time since he felt so powerless.

Joachim heaved his body out of the chair and slammed a fist against the surface of the desk. "I _know _Kyran!" he hissed through gritted enamels while ignoring the stunned silence that warped the old man's intense features into a look of surprise. "I am doing all I can to find the one responsible. I may have to summon my knights back from the east if someone else dies! What more can be done? I can do nothing to stop this without means of identifying the culprit. All of my knights are in the crusades. This leaves no one to watch the streets at night. I pray others will not suffer a similar fate."

"Well milord, you must appease the populace somehow. Why not find some scoundrel to hold in custody as the perpetrator? People are satisfied if they see _someone_ punished." Kyran suggested.

Yet again, Kyran's comments did not cease to cause aggravation, and Joachim hardly realized his nails practically dug into the wooden surface of the desk as he gave his vassal an impervious glare. "Out of the question." His voice hinged on rage but after a slight pause, he collected his emotions and sealed them beneath his firm reply. "What the hell are you thinking suggesting such an idea? Enough innocent lives have been ruined by these events! No one will become a scapegoat. If someone else dies whilst I hold an individual in custody, the people of Creightel would lose all faith in my abilities as their lord."

"Forgive me for saying this, but they already have." Kyran's cold gaze and outspoken opinions stunned him into a temporary silence. "Some dare to think you are the cause of all this. I think it is nonsense, for you are too ill to wander about the streets after nightfall, though I shall tell you tis' the older folk who believe that. Those who have inhabited this region for generations and believe in vampires."

Joachim could almost feel all the blood rush out of his face. Kyran's eyes widened, perhaps out of fear that he would suddenly collapse, through the young man grasped onto the desk and managed to steady himself. "That is absurd!" His seething reproach made the vassal take a step back, especially when his scowling lips deepened from the accusation. "What is wrong with all of my subjects? Can not a single one of them eliminate that tiresome idea of vampire lore? If anyone dares to accuse me of committing these despicable crimes I shall cut out their tongue and have them publicly lashed!"

"Then you will be kept quite busy. You forget that your ways are not theirs, and civilized men like you and I are not accustomed to their beliefs. The Vatican has yet to establish an undisputed Catholic faith in this region." As much as Joachim despised Kyran's words, he could not argue against them either. Romania was a country located in a treacherous and barren part of the world. The people were poor and ruled by their own king, which left foreigners in a dangerous state of affairs, though for the time being their presence was being largely ignored due to his family's political connections. "Mind you," Kyran added to the young man's further disdain. "You are quite a pale man, Lord Armster. Vampires are notorious for their unnaturally fair skin but I would not linger upon the views of ignorant peasants. Rather than punish those who cannot hold their tongues, I suggest that you focus your attention upon the travesties committed against not only this village, but yourself as well. Many a man would be delighted to witness a lord's downfall, especially if that lord does not have an heir to claim his estate."

"I doubt these events are related to some kind of conspiracy against me." Joachim turned away toward the window, but to his disappointment all that he saw were dull gray clouds covering the sky outside. It was a bitterly cold afternoon, with a chilly wind to add to the gloom, and depressing matters to emphasize his ill mood.

"You do not have an heir." Kyran did not fail to emphasize. "You are already twenty and you have not married, either. A man your age should have married a woman to bear you an heir. Yet, you continue to remain in solitude when it is contrary to the interests of your family. If I remember, your father refused every attempt I made to find him a suitable wife. How strange t'was that Lady Arabella was irreplaceable-"

"Be silent!" Joachim whirled in place. For a second his hands clenched into quavering fists but the sight of Kyran's aged appearance prompted him to fall into an uneasy state of restraint. Nevertheless, he made no hesitation to reprimand the man for his tactlessness. "I told you to never talk about my father! My family is my own concern, regardless if I am the only Armster left. Perhaps some families were never meant to survive. I may be more like my father in that aspect than you realize."

Catherine. Her name echoed through his mind, and had never ceased to occupy his thoughts since the previous afternoon. If she could not accept him, why should he believe anyone else would? He had lost the game of love so his misery was his own fault. At least, that was what he engrained into his mind, and what he saw beneath Kyran's civil demeanor. The man had no more respect for him than a commoner. The only man Kyran worshipped was Lord Zaeviean. Joachim knew full well he was not as harsh as his father, and not nearly so demanding of those who served him. Without his father, his vassal did not hesitate in saying whatever came to mind, and at the moment Joachim felt too weary to argue. Instead, he silently watched Kyran pace about the room, his long crimson robes swishing with each step he took as if it had been practiced, though his gaunt appearance was almost impossible to overlook. The top part of his head was bald, leaving a horseshoe shaped growth of gray hair around the back and little else to ease the harshness of his appearance. He was a slight, almost emaciated man, for his cheeks were sunken and the corners of his lips had permanent creases. Joachim always assumed the creases resulted from his constant frowns of disapproval.

"As you wish, milord, you have my apologies." The vassal made a rather hesitant bow. Joachim took note of the sheepish grin upon his vassal's lips. "I am only stressing the fact you have no heir. Do you want your valuables and your land to go to some scheming peasants? If the older ones in this village think you could be a vampire, I daresay they might try…desperate measures to end your reign. There must be _someone _who will inherit your property if anything should happen to you – God forbid."

Joachim placed a hand over his brow. The headache was becoming more unbearable, and Kyran's fervent gaze failed to relax him. "Fine." Joachim's lips became taut, and his brow furrowed upon noticing his vassal's gaze grow eager. "When one dies they cannot take their possessions with them, nor are possessions needed in what the church says is God's 'kingdom of heaven'." He waved a hand while once more retreating into the comfort of his chair.

"But milord," Kyran protested. "God also judges what one acquired in life – prosperity and wealth would be an ideal virtue if you desire to ascend into heaven. Not only that, but if you give plenty of your earnings to the church, you have ensured your soul will be saved."

"I do not recall reading any scriptures from the Bible about money granting me the salvation of my eternal soul." Joachim raised an eyebrow and folded his hands in front of him, unable to prevent a sarcastic smirk from playing across his lips. "I pray you my good vassal, do tell me where it says God will save you from purgatory if you bribe the church with gold? I have given plenty of it, but I do not feel saved from anything. Tis' man who values his golden idols and always will, no matter if his cause is in the name of God – in the end the intentions of mankind are still selfish and unchanging."

The young lord fell silent thereafter but unsurprisingly, the vassal nearly leapt out of the chair. "Blasphemy! Milord, I do protest how you crucify the holy name of our church! Why, if Father Genesio heard such sacrilege-"

"He would have me say fifty Hail Mary's – I have become quite familiar with that prayer, and you need not lecture me." He rolled his eyes and continued with a sigh. "This topic bores me. Now, what other business do we have to attend to? If there is nothing else, I wish to be left to my studies." The man did not move until the lord picked up the quill lying on the desk and began to write.

After a few moments of silence, Kyran made another deep bow and stepped toward the doorway. "As you wish, milord. I have nothing further to inform you. If I may, I advise you to perhaps read a few passages on vampires. I took the liberty to set a book regarding Romanian legends on the corner of your desk this morning before you awoke. The more you know on the subject of vampires, the easier it shall be to convince the populace their pitiful fears are primitive."

Joachim looked up from the parchments sorted on the desk. Just as he expected, a tattered book was set on the far corner, and the mere sight of it did not hide his visible air of distaste. With an exasperated huff, he picked up the book and slammed it down in front of him. It was not a very thick book, and when he flipped back the leather bound cover the scrawled words inside was barely legible. _Look at this thing!_ He thought to himself drumming his fingers against its tattered pages. _I can't believe my father kept this piece of trash in his library! Such a dreadful thing is not fit to be seen, let alone read for heaven's sakes. I have no time to spare reading rubbish when my village is on the brink of a cataclysm._

"It would be in your best interests if you are well informed. Whoever is responsible may not be a vampire, but if you and I continue to openly resist the villager's ways of reasoning, I fear it would cause unnecessary conflict. Remember: at the bat of an eyelid our presence in these lands could be jeopardized." Yet again the vassal tried to prove that his words were true. Joachim stared at the book without bothering to look up and watch him leave. When he was alone, he turned the page and found himself staring at a picture depicting the rendition of a vampire looming over the bedside of a sleeping woman. The humanoid creature had nails that resembled razor sharp claws, and its lips were parted to unveil the points of needle-like fangs thirsting for the exposed neck of its unwary victim. It was a despicable image for him to behold, though he could not deny he found the vampire somewhat intriguing even though it was merely folklore. Not long after the young lord began to skim through the contents of the book. Page after page showed gruesome hand drawn depictions of the undead, how they slept in coffins by day and wandered the lands searching for blood by night – their very existence unnatural and eternal. He did not realize one of his hands wrapped itself around the crystal he wore, nor did he notice his every move was being watched.

His heart nearly stopped when a familiar voice made him jump in his chair. "Well Joachim, I see you have finally begun to realize the undead do walk the earth!"

The knight leaned against the desk and peered over at the book, but the moment his invading eyes sought to read its contents Joachim snapped the book shut. "Maurizio! What are you doing here? You are supposed to be-"

"Don't remind me! I thought I would pay you a visit." Maurizio's lips curved into a wide grin, and his dark brown eyes glittered when Joachim leaned back in the chair and folded his arms across his chest. The incensed young lord could not believe the normally noisy knight had entered his study without even announcing himself, however his very image expressed nothing except exhaustion. "My, you look dreadful!" Maurizio cocked his head, and Joachim tried to avoid meeting the man's curious gaze. "I would say you are as pale as death my friend. I have not seen you in nearly two days – why are you keeping yourself locked up like this? Look at what that has done to you; you look like one of those destitute beggars on the streets!"

"I did not ask for your opinion on my appearance today." Joachim shoved the book aside and tried to look away, but his action failed to make the knight yield in the least.

"You're rather grouchy as well if I may say so!" Maurizio added to the growing displeasure creasing the corners of the lord's lips. "Though you cannot be blamed for that, I think you should account for your actions recently. Everyone is talking about how you stormed out of the tavern the other night, not to mention some are telling me you and the Lady Catherine had quite a troublesome exchange of words as of late. Can I be of any assistance?" The smile did not vanish from his lips, and without waiting he eased himself into the chair in front of the desk. Joachim's brow furrowed the instant Maurizio dared to ask, but his face paled to a most colorless shade from hearing him mention Catherine.

"No, I don't require your presence in my personal matters." He replied in a warning whisper, and articulated every word so sharply his friend's anticipating smile faded. "What have you heard about Catherine? Why would you think I would dream of involving _you_ in my affairs? The fact I feel quite unwell is why I have remained indoors. Despite my condition I am still trying to discover the murderer whilst you loiter around and accomplish nothing."

"Call my accomplishments nothing if you will but I cannot find something from nothing, Lord Armster." Contrary to Joachim's dulled mood, the knight's voice rang with unhindered amusement. "You must relax a bit more, my friend! What you need is a good woman to spend the night with. Believe me; whenever I get myself in unfavorable situations, a woman is about the only creature that can eliminate the drudgery of everyday knighthood. I bet if you could wield a woman as well as your sword you would be far less stressed-"

"Women are not objects for your personal gain! May I also remind you of your chivalrous vows, in that you are to be respectful of a lady, not ready to bed with the first attractive one you see!" The young lord shook his head, his weary eyes curtained by the strands of soft white hair. Without awaiting his friend's reply, he rose to his feet and swept out of the room, his long robes fluttering in his wake while Maurizio trailed after him in like a canary in the presence of a cat. The only difference was the fact Joachim lacked claws, but possessed a tongue so sharp his words alone could puncture through almost anyone he pleased. "For God's sakes," The lord stormed through the hallways, though it was unclear whether or not he was entirely ignoring the knight accompanying him. "Must I do _everything_ myself? It seems all of my subjects are nothing but damned fools-"

Just as they arrived at the entrance to the great hall, Joachim skidded to a halt and almost doubled over when Maurizio collided into his backside. The two men stared at the young woman waiting silently by the doorway. The mere sight of her made Joachim's eyes narrow and drift beyond her, as if her presence was no more than a figment of his imagination. "Good afternoon, Joachim." Not even the sound of her voice aroused any emotion to change his unfeeling expression, and without a word he continued onward until he had passed the lady by without a second glance. It did not surprise him to hear the sounds of her steadfast footsteps pursuing him, though without breaking his gaze ahead he walked toward the large windowpanes lining the hall, where streams of faint gray light splashed against the ornate marble floor.

"Leave us, Maurizio." Joachim blinked when he stood within the light, and half-turned to cast the knight a warning glare the moment a look of objection spread across the younger man's face.

"As you wish…" Maurizio replied, and after returning the glare with a reluctant one of his own, he whirled and moved off down the hall, his long red cape swishing in unison to his disappointed strides.

A chilling silence soon enveloped the entire hallway. Joachim returned to casting his dead gaze upon the rolling gray clouds that shadowed the sun's warm light, his face automatically paling a shade whiter from picturing her despondent expression in his mind. An uneasy shiver tingled through his body, making him shift in place, but once he settled again his smooth countenance remained unchanged by the heavy weight of sadness he felt inside his dejected soul. No matter how hard he tried, he could not save a part of himself from the slow, unending death he awoke to every morning. Forever his weakened state reminded him of the precious things he would never obtain – and the one who caused him the severest form of loss stood only a few feet behind him.

"I see you won't speak to me," Catherine's voice was oddly faint, and he jumped as if her words enticed some form of unknown threat. Instead, he felt one of her soft hands rest upon his shoulder before it slid up his arm to caress the cold flesh of his cheeks. "The other day…I did not mean to wound you so deeply. You are the only one I feel close to…more than my own father. If only I could show you the pain I carry in me, a terrible pain that shall never let me feel happiness again. You have given me so much, and there is so much I want to give you in return-"

"You can't fool me, Catherine." Despite the reflection of sorrow in his pale irises, his voice lashed her as ruthlessly as a punisher's whip. The force of his pain had a will of its own to drive her back, but her comforting touch never relented, though in his mind he could almost see the tears beginning to build in her gorgeous emerald eyes. Nevertheless, he drew in a breath and made a conscious effort to keep his voice monotone so that his contempt would remain beneath the surface of his pale exterior. "I have come to terms with my fate. I cannot have the things everyone else takes for granted. My soul is trapped in this wretchedly pathetic body, and as long as I am stricken by this illness for which there is no cure, I imagine I will die within a year's time. Everyday it takes its toll upon me, and I have not the strength left to fight it."

"Please don't say such things! You will live; for you are a man so great I am not worthy of looking upon you. Would you believe me if I told you more than anything I want to be your wife?" Catherine's voice was soft, but hinged on losing the thin amount of composure he knew was under the most intense amount of strain. The young man slowly turned in place so that his pale optics could lock against hers, noting the image of utter sorrow in her normally bright eyes for the first time. The lady's eyes were no less dark and worn than his, and she avoided meeting his gaze when he did not give an immediate response. "Would you believe me…?" The soft words filled echoed through his mind, his eyes watching her every move as she leaned close to him and buried her face against his chest. "Is it so difficult for you to know I love you, and I have watched you deteriorate every single one of those days since we met? Joachim…if I married you…and lost you…my whole world would die with you."

"All I can do is pray you will be much happier not having to burden yourself because of me. My entire existence has brought everyone else nothing but hardship." The lord made a defeated sigh, before his delicate lashes fluttered shut, trying to hold back from watching the tears falling from her eyes like droplets of rain. Catherine's body brought him much needed warmth, and her arms embraced him with the sincerest form of compassion he could ever feel during his time of distress, however the knowledge of his own physical limitations prompted his lips to form a deepening grimace.

"I suppose I was wrong to ask so much of you. My time is limited on this earth, and for you to marry me out of pity would be unjust."Joachim's eyelids lifted open from feeling her embrace tighten around him. The soft sounds of her sobs were muffled against his chest, and he had to use nearly all of his will power to not soothe her. It reminded him of the unhappy days he spent in bed, literally locked within his room, and during his darkest hours she came and cheered him like no other had. For many, someone in his condition was a wasted effort, but during all the years he knew her, she never possessed a vindictive heart to turn him away. If only he could have had her hope and her fervor for life, but his life was spent in constant isolation and ridicule, forced to be hated by many and loved by few. No appearance of pity crossed his face, for he resigned himself to remain cold and unfeeling, but the soft shine of his eyes unveiled the tempest of regret and sorrow churning beneath his wan exterior.

The disheartened young man exhaled an uneasy sigh the moment Catherine's tear-streaked face tilted, and her eyes fixed themselves upon the impassive visage he struggled to maintain. Almost without warning, she made an overwhelmed wail. "I don't want you to die! Please don't die, Joachim! I cannot see myself living a normal life without you! You can't leave me alone in this world, not yet, not when there is so much we can-"

"Catherine, I gave you the dearest part of me…my heart. You knew from the moment we met my life would be brief. I am only telling you what you already know, and what I will face inevitably someday soon." Joachim found himself shying away from her touch, his feet moving his stiff frame backward to avoid her warm hands from convincing him otherwise. For a moment his gazed lingered upon the gray sky and the shaded sunlight shining upon his worn body, at last making the woman gasp from seeing his miserably frail appearance. There had always been a hint of refinement in his face and the reserved but proud way he carried himself, though during the moment of her silence all of it seemed as opaque as his flesh. His lips formed into a half-hearted smile, though the expression required great effort. "I would die happy if I knew you had someone else to share your love with. Do not hold your heart for me alone. If Lord Bernhard is the one you adore, you have my blessing. At least I will know an able bodied man cares for you and can provide you everything I cannot. No woman would want to spend her days cooped up with a bedridden husband."

"That's not true!" Catherine sobbed, and between the streams of tears flooding from her gazing eyes, her voice quavered with pain. Scarcely did he have time to react before her arms were wrapped around him again, holding him close to her as if at any moment his fragile body would turn to dust. Truly, her devotion startled him, and within the pale light she too resembled a woman whose love was so deep she would follow him in his fate. "Its not that simple! You cannot read the feelings in my heart like you read your father's books! Lord Bernhard is an interesting man, but I do not know him like I know you, and I will never love him as I love you. _Please …stay with me…it would make me feel better if you do_."

Joachim froze in place, his lips unable to move, and his heart barely beating in his chest. No one wanted to seek support from a sickly young lord, but Catherine's grief-torn sobs refused to leave his memory. It was not that long ago when he made the same plea to her, and found a new reason for persevering when she could not abandon him. The envelope of coldness around him melted, and the tenseness in his muscles eased, while he pulled her closer to him so that he could take some comfort in the temporary moment of holding her in his arms. His lips trembled, and his breaths shortened to try and restrain his own form of sadness from being released, a sadness that persisted in rising to the surface as his eyes lingered upon the portrait of his mother displayed prominently upon the great hall's farthest wall. "My mother…" Heaving a sigh, his arms released from around her, and he distanced himself from her touch once again. The young lord walked to the large painting and extended his delicate hand toward it. In a softened voice, he glanced at the woman before returning his attention upon the portrait. "My mother…died giving birth to me. This painting is all that shows me what she looked like before I was born. Somehow…I can almost sense that she knew her child would be born weak. I have no idea why a woman of her kind and gentle nature would wed a heartless man like my father. If you knew what it felt like to be the reason why she died, perchance you would understand why my life should be brief."

"Don't say things like that…" Catherine's voice died to a low whisper, and her dress swept with her steps as she walked toward him. "Why must you condemn yourself? T'was no fault of yours, and she must have loved you dearly to surrender her life so you would live. You have never spoken about her till now…if only you told me you felt this way before…" Catherine's bright green eyes drifted to gaze upon the portrait of an elegant young woman donned in a flowing white dress. The lady's serene blue eyes seemed to gaze upon her onlookers with benevolence, and the radiant shade of her long blond hair shimmered like rays of sunlight on an autumn afternoon. "Lady Arabella…" Catherine tried to form her lips into a smile when she stood next to Joachim's pale form and maintained her gaze upon the portrait. "Your mother was a beautiful woman. Although you may resemble your father, I can tell now why your eyes are so different from his, for you received her compassion."A faint smile managed to form across Catherine's lips, but the emotion was a short-lived contradiction to the storm of turmoil he saw within her eyes. Yet, she seemed to gain a bit of comfort admiring Lady Armster. The tales many told of the beauty of lord Armster's young wife were far from falsehood, and the faded painting depicted a fair and angelical creature that seemed undeserving of the simple word 'woman'. The white folds of her dress flowed around Lady Armster's lithe frame like remnants of untainted wings, and seemed so real one could be tempted to try and reach out hoping such a woman might take their hand and lift them into the heavens. For many long years, Joachim dreamed his mother would be more than a simple picture.

"Although…" He almost did not hear Catherine whisper. "She seems so very…sad. Though her smile is kind, she hides something melancholic –which I have recognized by observing you wear the same expression upon your face, Joachim." Without another word she turned to him and stared at his drawn visage, but yet again he tried to recede from her watching eyes, however a persisting hand crept beneath his chin and lifted his head. Joachim fought within himself to object, however he was taken-aback by the close proximity in which she stood next to him, and his lungs seared as if his breaths had been halted by her unwavering gaze. Once she had obtained his immediate attention, she returned his thoughts to the portrait. "Joachim, what is that charming object she wears around her neck? Is it some sort of pendant?"

At first he knew not what she meant, and could not answer her curious question. However, he soon noticed source of her curiosity when he stared at the painting for a long time. Just as she said, a glittering black stone was secured around the lady's fine neck by an ornate gold chain. With a reminiscent sigh, he turned away from the portrait. "It may have been a necklace from my mother's jewelry collection. After she died, my father kept her valuables and clothing, for it seems he could not bear the thought of selling them. Anneliese showed me the jewelry and clothes my mother wore but I cannot recall the existence of that particular pendant. I imagine the artist of this portrait painted it for additional effect."

"Never mind then. There are all sorts of stones in this world, and often I cannot tell one from another." The lady shook her head and moved away from the portrait, but when she turned she was face to face with the white-haired lord once again. The look of guilt in his eyes prompted her supple lips to purse in question, and in return Joachim enclosed his hand around hers, turning her hand so that her palm was locked against his. The gesture was so simple and unexpected it made her temporarily oblivious to the dear object he passed from his hand and into hers.

The silence in which he completed the task was broken as her eyes welled with tears, and his hand lifted away from hers to unveil the familiar crystal strung by a matching jeweled chain. "W-Why are you doing this?" She whispered in a voice choked with despair, her hand containing the crystal trembling.

"I cannot keep your pendant. I thought it should be returned to you." Joachim's cold stare froze the young woman in place as though his azure eyes turned her into an ice sculpture. Without blinking she clenched her fingers around the crystal that created prisms across the smooth surface of the floor from the pale sunlight dancing through its clear structure. The young lord could no longer bear to see her breaking in front of his eyes, and he turned his face away to avoid accepting the weight of guilt seeping into his mind. "This object reminds me of the fact who I desire most in this world can never be mine. Forgive me."

"How…how could you…?" Tears spilled down her face, and she crumpled to the floor clutching the crystal necklace in her hands. For a moment he listened to the soft sounds of her weeping, but he had reached the point the sounds would drive him mad if he could not find the courage to walk away. He barely realized his feet were carrying him across the floor until he looked up and almost slammed into the doors. In his wake he heard Catherine's voice shake in dismay. "How could you give up life…and me…without shedding a tear?" The sorrow-filled accusation echoed through his tumultuous thoughts, but as always his lips remained silent, due to knowing he could not give her any kind of answer that would seem sensible. Instead, he lowered his head shamefully while keeping his eyes averted.

No sooner did his hand lift to grasp the door handle than did the two doors swing back, momentarily startling him, until he looked upon Maurizio and a servant standing on the other side. "What do you think your doing?" Joachim's snapped at them both, his pale optics flashing a visible flare of ill temperament when Maurizio was too astonished by his rage to respond. "I am not to be disturbed for the rest of the day! Maurizio – why not come in useful for once and escort Lady Catherine home. I feel unwell, and I would like to have a moment's peace so I may rest in bed."

"What on earth did you say to her?" Maurizio's eyes widened, evidently proving the knight had looked beyond the lord's shaken form to see the woman weeping on the floor like a lilac withered by a vicious gale. "So, you lecture me on how to treat a woman, yet I see before me the dirge of a lady's grief! My God, after spending twenty minutes with a woman you leave her in tears!"

Every part of Joachim's will restrained him from striking the knight across the face. Instead, his lips curled whilst he placed a hand over his forehead. "It's none of your concern! You best forget you witnessed this sight."

"My apologies, milord. Besides, you are becoming too unstable, and Vassal Kyran requested I keep an eye on you."

The knight's adamant protest caused a bitter sneer to cross Joachim's trembling lips. "You can hardly keep an eye on yourself, and you reek of ale – wash yourself before you present yourself in front of me." With a feral huff, the young lord swept passed the gaping fellow, and nothing from his furious demeanor hinted he would steal a backward glance.

* * *

The rest of the afternoon passed by slowly. Joachim had since taken it upon himself to remain locked inside his room until the sun dwindled over the horizon in the distance. Although the sky was still a dreary gray, he could see the golden sphere of light begin to subside as the night's cold grip sought to seize the earth in a long spell of darkness. The days were shortening, and autumn seemed to be over before it could begin, though the pale snow of the approaching winter was hardly surmountable to the cold gleam of the nobleman's poignant blue eyes. Just as he had during his childhood, he resigned himself to gazing at a world out of his reach. The cold weather would mean countless hours confined inside the manor, and he wondered whether he would last another winter without Catherine to visit him during such grave times. Under the best circumstances, he hoped he would die in his sleep during a night when a soft snowfall blanketed the barren earth. He fancied leaving the drapes of his windows open so that whilst he lay in bed, he could watch the silent snowflakes drift through the black night sky and lull him into a sleep from which he would never awaken.

The winter suited him perfectly after all, for he realized his coldness rivaled the snow itself, and the silence he kept was no less impassive against those who tried to comfort him. It came to him during his long hours of contemplation he desired no comfort from anyone. The idea of being pitied disgusted him as it was, and to attract more unneeded attention succeeded in making him more withdrawn. The idea of touching Catherine with his frail hands was simply unthinkable, let alone the thought he would be able to lie with her every night, her graceful figure occupying the lonely half of his bed he knew no other wished to fill. How foolish he had been when he invented the idea of turning a friend into a lover, without realizing love had the potential to destroy them both.

If I had half the strength my father possessed, I would have comforted her when she needed me most. I would have offered her an explanation to account for the cold manner in which I treated one so generous and empathetic. All of this is my doing, and tis' my guilt alone to carry. After I die my memory will drift from her thoughts like leaves in the wind, and at last she will be able to be at peace with herself…and so will I.

The lord forced himself to remain distant from everything to the point he did not hear a loud rapping sound upon his bedroom door. The noise continued unrelentingly, until his feeble body whirled and sought to put an end to the incessant interruption. His hollowed eyes traced the length of the thick door before him, the nose echoing through his distorted thoughts. After sighing to himself, his hand mechanically grasped the doorknob and pulled it open. The motion was so strained it paralleled his apprehensive expression, but as always his emotions were brought to the brink of their frustration when he saw Maurizio waiting on the other side.

The knight's silver armor gleamed in the candlelit corridor, and his shining brown eyes were focused upon the pale nobleman intently. Maurizio almost jumped back as if surprised Joachim had bothered to answer, and shifted when icy blue eyes stared in a fashion that was oddly intimidating for belonging to a being whose remarkable fairness rivaled a dove's. It seemed another means of apprehensive greeting was added to the awkward situation when the white-haired youth purposely leaned against the doorframe, while giving the man a glower of immense displeasure. "I told you not to disturb me." Joachim's voice was monotone, but still hinged on the barest thread of outrage, his eyes shooting daggers at the boisterous knight.

Nevertheless, Maurizio threw himself into the dangerous situation ignorant of the emotions boiling beneath Joachim's inexpressive eyes. "Are you going to come out now? I wish you would cease your sulking and join me in the great hall. The servants told me you refused dinner, and unless you want poor Catherine's heart to give way after what you have done, I request your company without delay."

Joachim remained indifferent to the concerned suggestion. "I am not interested. I told you to escort Catherine home."

"She is in no condition to go anywhere, and you are in no condition to go nowhere. Please my friend, do not make me drag you out by that fine hair of yours."

At first Joachim was tempted to slam the door in his face and retreat into solitude, but after emitting a reluctant sigh, he emerged from the room and stepped into the corridor. A sense of exhaustion overwhelmed him, and he had to lean against the wall to stay standing, while ignoring any motion of help the knight tried to offer. "Leave me be." He murmured. "I will take a walk for a few minutes if it means you will leave me in peace. Then I will see to Catherine as soon as my strength returns."

"Excellent." Maurizio managed a smile, but it was not returned. "Where would you like to venture to? How about the study room or the gardens outside – we may as well breathe the air whilst it is sill free of winter's chill."

The knight's voice fell silent when Joachim made a slow shake of his head. "Maurizio…this is not the time for your usual antics. If you want to help me…let me walk alone."

"Alone?" The younger man's voice rang with disbelief. "The whole reason why I called on you is to ensure you have someone accompanying you. However, considering you do not seem yourself, I will accept the fact you will not be cooped up in your room all day."

Maurizio's dark eyes glittered in faint apprehension, though the smile he wore seemed to replace it – or better yet try to hide it from white-haired lord's tired gaze. Although Joachim's changing moods evidently bothered him, he took a step back, giving the frail creature a bit of much needed distance. If the circumstances had been less intense, Joachim would not have been so critical of the fellow, for the man was still young and rambunctious. It was a life that could have been his as well, and perhaps a distinct form of jealousy kept the bitter scowl pressed across his lips. More than anything he wanted to be knight when he was a boy, and be given the privileges and honors that profession bestowed upon fortunate men of noble birth. Not only that, but there was something about the knight he could not trust no matter how much he wanted to. Maurizio flaunted about with almost any woman in the village, including the twittering female gossips Jezebel and Emmaline. When it first began he tried to believe it was because Maurizio was simply flirting with them on a casual basis, but over time the knight's drinking habits had worsened, and his consideration toward those he associated with seemed to attach itself to his liking of ale. In simpler times Joachim's fellowship with the knight had been enjoyable. He watched the younger knight make a formal bow and speak with as much cheer as the somber situation allotted.

"I will go and investigate the murders a bit more. If I discover anything of interest, I shall inform you immediately." A soft smile creased the corners of the knight's lips, and in barely a moment the man disappeared down the empty corridor. It was strange to watch him leave so quickly and deliberately, but Joachim turned the opposite direction to begin his trek toward the great hall.

With mechanical steps he moved down the corridor, hearing nothing around him except silence. Not even a single servant happened to enter from the many rooms lining his particular wing of the manor, but he remembered it was his own orders that prevented a single interruption from distracting him. No one was to disturb him, and since the servants were wary of his father's ill moods that were not so unlike his own, none ever dared to disobey. The pale young man moved with stealthy steps, his body feeling unusually out of synch with his desire to press onward, and not a second later he fell against the wall. The shock from the sudden wave of dizziness startled him, and his lungs ached in demand for the air his gasping breathes had difficulty inhaling. It felt like his entire chest was being crushed by some unseen torturer, and he was quite content to believe that if there was a God, the almighty God was receiving pleasure from his pain.

In defiance, a perturbed grumble erupted through his throat, and he forced his body away from the wall. The experience still lingered as he resumed walking, and he had to use every ounce of his will to resist it. The corridor gave the illusion of being twice as long during his faint state, but after receiving a small amount of relief after he rounded the corner, he almost staggered back from seeing Catherine standing on the other side of the adjoining corridor. At first his lips wanted to blurt out the array of desperate thoughts coursing though his mind, but his throat became oddly constricted, and he could do nothing except go to her.

Catherine appeared to have regained her composure. The lady's bright emerald eyes no longer brimmed with tears, but the remnants of the salty liquid still stained her delicate cheeks, and she did not make an effort to address him. At the same time however, she did not rebuke him either. All at once his steps felt heavier as if lead had been tied to his boots, but one of his trembling hands reached out to her, trying to seek her warm embrace or something of her sweet smile he all but destroyed because of his sullenness. "Please…" His voice choked in a faint whisper, and the very attempt to speak made him fatigued. "Don't…hate me Catherine. It's my fault…all of your suffering…has been because of me. Why do you stay?"

Before he realized it, his feet gave way. The instant the brief sensation of weightlessness enveloped him; he already began to await the hard jolt from his body hitting the hard floor. The pale nobleman's eyes drifted upward to gaze upon the black ringlets, and the large green bow set neatly in the thick lovely tresses. A lady's sympathetic eyes looked down upon him, accompanied by a reassuring hand stroking his smooth cheeks as her soft fingers skimmed through his silky white hair. "You know why." She whispered in his ear, and the words gave the renewed strength he needed, enough so that he accepted her hand and was able to stand upright. "Come. Let me put you to bed. You have endured enough for one day, Joachim."

Compliantly, he walked with her back down the corridor, his steps weak but still sturdy enough so he could move. Catherine's reassuring hold on his arm gave him renewed confidence, and her bright green eyes did not leave his paling form for a moment. They made their trek in silence, which was neither awkward nor relaxed, but still out of the ordinary for them both. Her eyes looked upon him in a way he could not recall seeing before, and she appeared as if she would speak, but not a single sound escaped her until she led him into his chamber. The room was a great deal darker since the sun fled from the invading night, and streams of moonlight appeared across the bedspread and floor as if a great goddess had spilt the milky white illumination throughout the room. Joachim did not know she led him to the bed until she helped him lay down, and heard the soft rustle of covers being tucked tightly around him. When she finished, he caught the silhouette of her lithesome figure straightening in the shadow of the full moon looming in the sky. The clouds finally cleared, and through the grace of the moonlight, he saw the woman whose beauty surpassed the moon itself.

Softened green eyes gazed down upon him for a long moment, observing his pale face and fragile outline within the darkness. Upon watching her turn to leave, his hand seemed to be controlled by an unconscious force, and her wrist was soon seized by his gentle hold. The lord's voice became so soft his lips barely moved. "Please…stay with me." Joachim's refused to blink, as though fearing she would vanish. The lady seated herself at the edge of the bed, hesitantly resuming her gentle gaze upon him so that his wanting heart could take in the refined contours of her face. The room was so quiet he could hear her breaths quickening, almost as if he was able to listen to the rapid pace of her heart pounding against her ribcage. A nervous smile formed across her lips before she whispered uncertainly. "What do you need, Joachim?"

"You." Joachim's lips barely moved with his answer, but he gave her no time to consider it before he sat up and pulled her into his arms. Hungry lips covered hers, his body drawing her into his embrace. The lady made no will to struggle but instead wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, her smile broken by a short gasp when his lips wandered to her throat and tenderly kissed the warm flesh. During the playful dance of their lips, her hands untied the corset of her dress, so the garment fell away from her shoulders and exposed her naked figure bathed in the moon's pale light.

Joachim could hardly take in the sight before her hands slid behind his back and untied the connecting leather binds of his armor one by one, until she freed him of his clothing. In a matter of moments, his bare and pale body blended with the moonlight. Catherine pulled the covers back and laid between his legs, undaunted by the look of shame that spread across his face. An aroused moan erupted through his throat as soon as she reached his swollen organ and stroked the coils of pale, white hair. The gradual motion initiated a burst of pleasured sensations through him, but when he dared to steal a glimpse, he could not withhold a shocked gasp from escaping his throat. Catherine smiled at him in the darkness, her reassuring voice easing his unnerved expression. "Relax…I promise you…I will give you everything you have ever desired, for my body and soul are yours."

"But are you certain-" His eyes gazed into hers, stifling his question when her hips rested over his, giving his shaking hands no alternative except to cling to the sheets when she made a slow motion forward. Pain briefly dampened her smile; though it lifted in conjunction to the words she tried to say through breathless gasps as her gentle figure rocked in a slow, wistful rhythm, her pearl tightening and encouraging his inexperienced body to follow her movements. He struggled to comprehend the rhythm she invoked from his body, as if a magnetic force kept them joined during their union, and the fear of the unknown died away in the instinctive desire to fill her with himself. Catherine's arms tightened around his back, and his gaping mouth struggled to keep in silence during the explosions of pleasure encompassing him as her hot words breathed in his ear.

"My feelings are absolute… so let me show you…the reaches of my love for you tonight." With each motion of her hips, his lips withdrew a gasp, and with each whimper of pleasure she made his eyes froze open to admire her mesmerized expression. He felt the circular contours of her breasts press against his chest as she lay over him, and could not withhold a cry from erupting though his throat as her nipples brushed against his lips. The youth stared at the sight in astonishment, at first hesitating like a frightened child, until her hands cupped his face and her dainty fingers danced across his hot cheeks. She rocked against him with such force his lips parted in a gratified moan.

The invigorating sensation she wrought within him made his projecting organ force its way further inside her. In response, she wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him closer to her. The young man's cheeks tinted a shade of red with embarrassment, but what met his shy display was the brief sound of her chuckling at him, until her frame suddenly sat up.

She straddled him between her legs and gazed down at him, her emerald eyes glinting and her raven hair dampened by perspiration. One of his hands ran down the side of her torso to her thigh, squeezing the delicate flesh, before reaching to touch the dark coils of hair covering her most sensitive region. Not a moment passed before he withdrew and cast his eyes away from her in shame. Everything he was enjoyed what she was giving him, but a small part of him failed to accept it without realizing something in exchange would be lost – her innocence. Tears began to build in his crystalline eyes, and he kept his watch averted from her nakedness, from the fact she was no longer an innocent young girl. It shamed him to know he took pleasure touching every aspect of her, of feeling her breasts and tasting her lips, and his selfish satisfaction of knowing he treasured every moment of their union.

His thoughts were broken by the gasps she enticed from his parted lips, and he looked up at her entranced face, once again meeting her eyes. When she rocked her hips against him, each motion drew him further within her depths. The lady's chest heaved alongside the forward swivels of her hips as her head fell back and the coils of her thick black hair tumbled in untidy layers over her shoulders. Her pace increased until he could scarcely respond except to wrap his arms around her lower back and use his gentle hold to keep himself inside her. Each time she rocked against him, her throat vibrated a moan of pleasure, which heightened upon feeling him begin to quickly pump against her. The pace of his sudden movements forced her to temporarily relent in surprise, and before long her slender figure shook in response to his sudden attainment of momentum.

Without warning, he sat up so their faces were inches apart, tightening his arms around her as she wrapped her legs around his torso. The lady's arms embraced him, welcoming his endeavor as he leaned into her and pleasured her while sitting upright. His mouth covered hers in a deep kiss, whilst his delicate frame rocked against her harder, and the sounds of his cries lost in the pleasures and warmth of her body.

Forever he belonged to him, and even if that night would be the only night they spent together, he would carry that memory with him until his dying day.

_Catherine…if only you could know how deep my love is for you…_

_…But even if you never know…_

_I always will._

* * *

Joachim shielded his eyes from the blinding rays of sunlight pouring over his pale face. One hand weakly shielded his stinging eyes, as the other pulled back the covers but threw them over his body from the cold chill of the early morning. The graceful lids covering his optics fluttered open, awakening him to the vague sensation of reality as he sat up in bed. Immediately, his stunned reaction from finding his body bare made his hand clutch the covers and hike them over his chest, while his wild gaze swept the room.

After ensuring no one was about, he looked next to him in the bed and found it was just as empty as it had been every morning. He blinked several times to adjust to the sunlight, at first lost in the confused array of thoughts in his mind, until he made a long yawn and stretched the tenuous muscles in his arms. Although the bed sheets were somewhat ruffled, he could not discern exactly what occurred, and the fact nothing was disturbed made him believe it had all been a dream. Perhaps during his disoriented state he had been hallucinating and returned to bed. It was a logical enough conclusion, since the alternative would have been impossible.

The warbler outside his window twittered in welcoming of the dawn, and after sitting monotonously for over twenty minutes, he threw back the covers and placed his feet upon the cold floor. At any moment a servant would call on him and bring him breakfast. His eyes searched the room for his robes, and he was unsurprised when he saw them hanging neatly in the open closet, his armor set upon his dresser like always before he went to bed, so when he awoke the servant would be able to find it and assist him putting it on.

Joachim walked lightly across the icy cold floor until something sharp pierced into the sole of his foot. Taken aback, his eyes narrowed, and he bent over to move whatever he almost crushed. Perhaps something had fallen off his dresser and rolled over on the floor next to his bed, as things did every so often when a servant cleaning the room knocked something over.

The curious lord staggered back in disbelief when he saw what it was.

The crystal pendant.

* * *

The winter snow usually came before December, but the gentle autumn kept its firm shield poised against the awaiting frost, which left the ground free of ice. The farming serfs went to the village cathedral every day to pray for snow to blanket their fields and freeze the lands, so by springtime when it melted the ground would be moist enough to nurture the seeds of future crops. It was late December in Creightel, and the village was close to teetering over the edge of chaos. Although the villagers rarely spoke of the murders, many blamed the lack of snow on vampires, and many more looked to the manor with tired eyes thirsting for retaliation.

None knew whom their hatred was focused upon better than the white-haired youth, whose calculating blue eyes seemed to stab in unison to his sword as his feet moved across the floor in graceful dance-like motions. The loud clash of metal spoke instead of his lips, and although every aspect of his body was exhausted by the endless nights he spent brooding over what to do.

"Keep your guard up, Maurizio." He muttered between the clashing of their swords, as the luminous glint of the blades flashed under the warm sunlight. It hardly took him any effort to swing his arm again and again, before blocking the knight's constant attempts to subdue him. Although Maurizio craved a sparring match every once in a while, the knight relented every time Joachim aimed a powerful blow against the rival blade. After making a final well-aimed strike; Joachim pressed his sword against Maurizio's, taking the knight by so much surprise that he forced the blade inches away from the man's neck.

"Alright! You've bested me at this – now if you please, I would prefer it if you did not keep your weapon so near to my throat!" Maurizio glared at the smirking young lord, who promptly withdrew his sword away from the vulnerable flesh.

"My apologies, friend." Joachim stepped back as the knight recovered and ruffled the collar of his surcoat. "You have improved since our last spar but your concentration this morning is lacking."

"I have been thinking about what is happing to our village – and to you." Maurizio replied as he sheathed his sword. "Everyone's allowing this terrible circumstance to ruffle his or her feathers, so to speak. If I were you, I would not venture into the village for a while."

"And why not?" Joachim inquired, his eyes squinting in the bright light shining through the large windowpanes of the great hall. In the morning, the hall's elaborate architecture was no less beautiful than the inside of a cathedral since it faced the rising sun.

Maurizio looked out the window, his shoulders tensing. "Well…many of the villagers have been threatening to take matters into their own hands. I fear some blame you for their suffering – they think you are responsible for the deaths. Those dregs know nothing of you, but they are quick to condemn who conveniently fits into their idea of a devil."

"Fools." The white-haired lord scoffed, whilst he gripped the handle of the blade tighter. All at once his lips formed an irritated scowl, and he was tempted to drive the metallic weapon into the floor. "They will soon find that blaming me won't bring back their loved ones. If I wish to leave my estate, I will do so regardless if they intend to accuse me. I want to see Catherine – it has been far too long since we last met. I'm afraid my attention upon this matter has been rather obsessive."

Although the village was in an uproar, the situation between he and Catherine was like it had always been. Except for the fact she did not visit him as often as he preferred, but when she made her rare appearances in his manor, they would play chess or read a passage from their favorite book. He knew not why she was able to cheer him sequentially, but not once did he mention the forbidden dream he had about her, or dare to bring up the fact he felt perplexed by Walter's sudden absence. Since the night he and Walter talked, the other lord had not reappeared in the village.

Despite his confidence, Maurizio paused as if deliberating whether or not to speak, and only after an awkward silence passed did the knight inquire under his breath. "Have you noticed anything unusual about Catherine as of late?"

"Unusual?" Joachim's brow furrowed in detest of the idea. He could not imagine where the knight was getting such strange idea but humored the man anyway. "What do you mean? I regret that I have not seen her in nearly three months due to the murders…"

Maurizio pressed a gauntlet against his smooth chin, while his other hand nervously skimmed through the dark locks of his brown hair. It was a gesture Joachim recognized every so often when they encountered an awkward topic of conversation, though his pondering lips uplifted into a quick smile and his tone lightened when Joachim's curious air of defense refused to relent. "Right then, I was just asking. She seems…different somehow. She rarely leaves her house, and when I happen to see her on the street, she barely acknowledges me." Upon seeing a scowl pressed across the lord's face, Maurizio winked and cleverly changed the subject matter. "A world without politics is a world without conflict. Tis' no wonder why delicate ladies should never hear such nonsense." The knight paced back and forth like a nervous animal confined in a cage. The sound from his boots reverberated throughout the great hall from the metal soles clapping across the floor.

"I wish I could believe that," Joachim cast the man a knowing smile. For once he did not feel inclined to make it a struggle when he added. "A world without politics is a world without choice. The constant criticisms I receive can be useful, if you consider the fact it allows me to differ those who are dimwitted from those who are simple idiots. They say every village has an idiot-"

"Indeed!" Maurizio's lips formed into a sheepish grin and he stopped in place. "Forgive me, but the position has already been filled. Unless someone can be more of an idiot than I, I must ensure my position is not overtaken."

Both men burst into a fit of laughter, and the sounds of their merriment echoed through the hall. It was far too long since laughter filled the Armster Manor, and for the seconds it lasted, Joachim's pallid complexion beamed with a kind of joy that rarely overcame the somber visage he felt consigned to wear almost everyday – except in the presence of Catherine. As always though, something broke through his merriment – and that time it happened to belong to Kyran, who stood in the doorway of the hall holding a piece of parchment in his hand. The lord's sharp sense of awareness immediately stifled his laughter, especially after he noticed the vassal's familiar scowl of disapprove and severely knit brow.

"Milord." Kyran held his head high while walking into the hall to purposely disrupt the conversation. Without awaiting acknowledgement, one of his gnarled hands shoved the piece of paper in Joachim's face. The paper was still folded, and might have relieved Joachim to know it had not been opened; however his vassal's continued scowl failed to ease his wondering thoughts. The elderly man made a scene of clearing his throat, and coughed so loud the other men had difficulty hiding their repugnance. Nevertheless, when the vassal was confident their attentions were directed upon him, he stated without delay. "Tis' a letter from the Vatican. I presume it comes from Cardinal Michael, whom you wrote months ago about the murders occurring here."

"It's about bloody time he responded to my demand." Joachim took the letter from the glaring old man and held it up in the light. The warm sunbeams shone through the thin paper, illuminating the scrawls of handwriting on the inside of the folds. Paper was a difficult article to come by, and even more difficult to obtain due to the great cost of producing it. A small sneer crept across his lips as he broke the stamped wax seal and skimmed its contents. Within moments he crushed the paper in his fist. "It seems Cardinal Michael put more care in choosing what kind of paper to send me, than in agreeing to send my knights back to Creightel." Joachim turned away from the window, and upon looking at the two men, a shadow of rage flickered in his hardened blue eyes.

"You can't be serious!" Maurizio snatched the crumpled paper from his hand and frantically began the incredulous task of trying to see the contents of the note. "Why would they refuse to send our knights home? People are dying!"

"Things are not that simple you dolt!" Kyran grabbed the crumpled piece of paper from the man's fumbling hands and threw it across the hall. "I am not surprised. Cardinal Michael is one of the church's foremost supporters of the crusades. They simply cannot afford to send anyone back during these crucial times-"

"Cannot, or will not?" Joachim folded his arms across his chest, and his head lowered so the soft strands of his ashen hair curtained around his cheeks and hid the spark of rage seeping into his glaring eyes. His words received no response, which prompted him to remark spitefully. "The church does not give a damn about our problems! They would sooner fight 'heathens' in the east than come to the aid of their own people, who are dying at the hand of a true heathen."

"Hold your tongue, milord." Kyran's blazing eyes locked with his, and Maurizio stood like a dumb dog caught between two aggressive wolves. The knight did not speak a word while the vassal attempted to lecture against the bold outburst. "Do you want news of your indiscretions to reach the ears of the Pope? Have you never taken a moment to think of what could happen to you if they discovered your tongue is no less poisonous than the tongue of the snake that brought forbidden suggestions to Adam and Eve? Every luxury you have could be revoked if that man so much as hints it to be done-"

"All you care about are material possessions, so do not even consider lecturing me on religion. If you want to sustain the fineries of this materialistic world, I shall give them willingly to you! My life will be short regardless, so you may as well indulge in the wealth my father gained because of his butchery of those the church labeled evil." Joachim gave the man the foulest glare he could imagine, and without thinking, he spat on the floor next to the vassal's boots. By then his temperament had risen so heatedly he was unconscious of realizing his voice screamed the accusation, and with the speed of a viper his hand seized the vassal by his robe and jerked him forward. "You filthy wretch! It is people like you who bring suffering and evil upon the world! Under the veil of righteousness, your kind commits only wicked deeds, and the blood of the innocent covers all of these things my father obtained! Always the innocent are the ones who die, never those who deserve it most of all!"

Kyran's eyes resembled saucers, gazing placidly into the icy blue optics of the fragile young man who held onto him with the strength of a thousand knights. New life had been breathed into Joachim's body through the injustices of the world that had at last brought him to the brink of his fading composure. It was too much for him to abide by the word of a cruel, senseless individual, and simply touching him made his face twist with repugnance as if he had laid his hands upon a leper. "The supposed holy church is a disease to this world. The faith has been corrupted by mankind's shallow and proud nature. If there really is a God, I pray our wise and divine God shall one day intervene and correct this atrocity." Joachim hissed, and his grip relented until he pushed the man down onto the floor.

"Joachim! What in God's name then do you think you are doing?" Maurizio was swift to run to the fallen vassal's aid. The old man fell in such a way he landed upon his back unscathed, but his aging body was unable to get up without the knight's neurotic assistance. Joachim watched Maurizio's hand enclose around the vassal's arm as the younger man pulled Kyran onto his feet, but the cold stare he fixed upon the two was unmoved by the gesture. The shadow of rage in his eyes blazed hotter than wildfire, and he turned his back against them and stormed toward the door, his boots thumping across the marble floor but not loud enough to stifle the sound of his hostility. "Help him then Maurizio, but know you are helping only a worthless old cad, who I should ban from my household if it were not my father's assurance that he would have a place here until the end of his days. Hopefully, his end will be sooner than my own."


	11. Chapter 11: Innocent Sins

**Author's Note: **This is a very important chapter with several major plot twists so I hope you will read it carefully and review, of course. :) something interesting also happens between Joachim and Walter as well. *wink*

**Disclaimer: **none of the characters in LoI belong to me and are copyrighted by Konami.

Special Thanks

**Rahar Moonfire: **As always, thank you for reading and reviewing. I am eager to know what you think of this chapter in particular... (heh)

Other thanks also go to anyone who is reading this story...feel free to leave comments if you like it (or don't...constructive criticism is also appreciated)

**Chapter XI**

Walking in the sunlight gave him enough optimism to calm down. The streets of the village were nearly deserted, except for the occasional peasant that passed him by giving a sour glance. Joachim tired to ignore the looks he received as best he could, but always kept a tense hand near the hilt of his sword. He never imagined he would be endangered if he walked the streets during the daytime; however the hatred the villagers directed toward their lord was formidable.

After wandering through the small roadways, he happened upon a modest home complete with painted shutters and a thatched roof. It was a simple home like many others, belonging to peasantry with average income, but the one he sought inside was beyond average by every form of the meaning. The lord walked to the worn front door of the home and knocked several times before a man with jet-black hair and a thick beard answered. The man had a thin face and a tall, lanky frame, though a proud glint reflected within his eyes that stared unenthusiastically at the finely dressed lord.

"May I help you, _milord_?" His gruff voice spoke not so much a question as it was an abrupt statement.

"I wish to speak with your daughter, Luciano. Is Catherine home?" Joachim's pale figure tried to advance forward, but he could not make the first step before the grumpy man held up a hand and leaned on the doorframe to block the entrance into the home.

The man's heavy eyes flared indignantly. "My daughter is not feeling well. Your presence here will only disrupt her, so remove yourself from my sight, boy."

"Excuse me?" Once again the fiery chasm inside the depths of his pupils blazed, like oil ignited by a torch. It occurred to him then that despite hating his title he hated disrespect even more, for he seemed to receive all too little of it from his subjects. Without warning he slammed his hand on the doorframe next to the man's face, whilst his lips curled with bitter vehemence. "I am not here to talk to you. I am here to see your daughter, and if she is ill you must step aside and let me pass! I am the lord of this village, and I will not tolerate your uncouth behavior-"

A cold laugh parted from the man's lips, and a thin hand stroked the short but kempt beard covering his face. "You are not the lord of my house, young man. I have traveled almost all my life until settling here, and there is no man who can claim his lordship over me, for the self-serving requests of the nobility is far from intimidating."

"Is this intimidating enough then?" Joachim withdrew his sword and in the blink of an eye it was pressed to the man's jugular. With a single clean swipe, he had the ability to cut his head from his neck no less quickly than a butcher slaughtering a cow.

"You'll have to do more than that to scare me." A twinge of amusement glinted in the man's eyes. "You nobles care nothing for the peasants whose blood is spilt in your name. By the by, it would be unwise for you to threaten me when your own subjects want your head more than I at the moment."

Joachim's eyes widened, and after an uncomfortable pause, he withdrew the blade and reluctantly slid it into its sheathe. All eyes were upon him, and just a single foolish move would make his own blood flow over the ground instead. He knew what he did was ridiculous, for the man was Catherine's father, and had never approved of Catherine spending time with him. Why his own father requested that particular man's daughter to visit him during the times he was ill he did not wish to know, but one long glimpse of Catherine's window on the second floor added to the dire need he felt to see her. It was a need he could not exactly explain, but it came in the deepest form of dread, and would not cease bothering him until he and Catherine were in each other's company. It was that man who prevented it from happening, and he maintained his thinning composure only out of respect for the lady he desired to see. "Please…you must let me see her." He whispered earnestly under his breath, and for a brief second cast his eyes on the ground. "I will not trouble you. I only wish to see your daughter and aid her any way I can. You do not understand…she means a great deal to me."

"Aid her?" The man shifted in the doorframe, his voice and critical eyes blatantly scoffing the appearance of the pale young lord. "What can _you_ possibly do for her? Take a look in a mirror young man, and see that your illness has always led you to death's doorstep. It is probably your fault she caught whatever disease you have and become ill-"

"Hold your tongue, papa!" From behind the man in the shadows, a pale face emerged, and the young woman stepped into the sunlight. "Joachim, what are you doing here?"

Her voice was faint, but her eyes were bright, as if his presence had brought her some much needed companionship. Catherine's normally neat hair looked untidy, and wrapped around her shoulders and front was a long black shawl lined by thick tassels that swept in the gentle breeze. With careful steps, she slid passed the thin man and accepted Joachim's extended hand. A smile finally crept across his lips while he gazed into her astonished green eyes, relishing within himself the sparkle of joy she tried to hide. "Your father told me you were ill." The news still caused tingles of anxiety to flood through his chest, and even his steady gaze could not withhold the suggestion of alarm in his voice. "Are you alright, Catherine? You need not trouble yourself with my concerns, but I promised I would see you again. Admittedly it has been months since our last meeting. I could not delay any longer."

"I am feeling much better now, so fear not. It was just a spell, and I think I shall be fine." She beamed at him weakly, and he felt her hold around his hand tightened when she stepped next to him. "Care to walk with me? A bit of fresh air would do me good. The weather this December is so mild I swear winter shall forget to show itself!"

"Do not be so certain, my dear." The man mumbled, and upon locking eyes with the delicate looking lord, his stance in the doorway stiffened like a soldier brought to attention. Joachim could do nothing except avoid the man's probing eyes, which glared upon their coupled hands in palpable detest. Nevertheless, he realized Catherine knew of his discomfort, and noticed she made a great show of ensuring their hands never parted. Her fingers felt a tad bit colder than what he was accustomed to, however her smile wavered upon hearing her father continue. "You should remain in bed for the day. Yet, knowing you as well as I do, you would rather listen _him_ more than I. Suit yourself then, but you must return within the hour."

"I apologize, papa. I wish you would show respect in the presence of Lord Armster – at least for the sake of his father, God rest his soul."

"My respect is shown when it has been earned. This young man is far too reckless compared to his father. You best not indulge in the noble life too much my dear, for you are not one of them – and certainly not like this feeble looking creature."

The cruel glare directed at Joachim's pale figure intensified, but Catherine boldly returned the glare before pulling the quavering lord by the hand. "Come, Joachim. Don't listen to him; he always gets moody whenever he does not eat breakfast."

She gave her father a deliberate scowl before they walked off down the street. The day was calm and the streets were silent, and Joachim could hear his footsteps resonate faintly over the road. "Your father never took a liking to me." He muttered, but noticed she seemed unbothered by that fact. Rather than dwelling upon it, a renewed smile spread across her lips to find his anxious expression did not fade.

"There are plenty of things to be happy about." She whispered gently, her fingers twining between his whilst her other hand brushed aside the loose strands of her thick raven hair. He noticed something in her voice was unmistakably cheery, and every so often as they walked, she pulled her long shawl tighter over her shoulders.

"Are you cold?" Joachim lifted an arm to wrap it around her shoulders, though hesitated when she chuckled quietly and waved him away. The sun's light cascaded through the streets and allowed a trace of extra warmth to circulate through the crisp atmosphere. His careful eyes scanned the length of her shawl, noting how the edges were moth eaten, and untended holes gaped through parts of the fabric. "My Catherine," He exclaimed in lighthearted mock. "Why are you wearing that old thing? It looks like it would serve better as a dish rag than as a shawl – it has so many holes and looks so unshapely I can't imagine you getting any warmth out if it!"

"Nonsense!" She slapped his arm playfully, however her hands pulled away and fell tiredly at her side. Exhausted, she paused to catch her breath before remarking. "It belonged to my mother. I remember she bought it when I was a little girl. I suppose she loved it so much I could not bear to throw it away. It reminds me of how hard she worked before she died."

"But it's too long!" Joachim lifted a part of the worn fabric, unable to prevent an amused smile from flashing across his face. "Just look at it! You wear it so it covers up your pretty dress. The last thing I want to have happen is for you to catch a cold – and you always lecture me about not having common sense."

"You are the one who is ill so do not fuss over me." She rested her head on his shoulder, allowing him to finally keep her warm, but evidently because she did not wish to hear more of his criticisms. They did not have a particular destination in mind, and since the field was too far from where they were, both resorted to wandering aimlessly down the few streets the village had to offer them. Joachim kept a careful eye upon her the entire time, and how her graceful form tried to shiver without him noticing. The lady's shoulders were somewhat elevated, but the smile remained pressed across her lips until he spoke his thoughts aloud. "You are tense, Catherine. What's the matter, do you wish to return home?"

"Certainly not!" Her bright green eyes hardened, and a single gust of wind made her scramble to maintain the grip her other hand reinforced upon the tattered shawl covering her. "Perhaps you have the right to worry, since the murders are still unsolved. What is going to happen now that eleven people have died? Four of your serfs were lost last month alone, not to mention a poor young boy in early October." Her lips pursed, and she gave her head a slow regretful shake. "Joachim, I thought you wrote to the Vatican three months ago about this? Why have they not replied by now?"

"They have. Today I received a letter from Cardinal Michael." Once again sourness returned in his voice, and she drew a gasp from witnessing his other hand clench into a tight fist. The mad flurry of rage dwelling within his eyes threatened to rise to the surface as it had throughout the day, but he reminded himself he was in the presence of a ailing young woman, whom he did not wish to stress. "My request was rejected. Apparently, Cardinal Michael has no time to deal with issues that do not benefit the crusades."

The hopeful glint in Catherine's eyes fell, and she halted in the middle of the street like a startled doe, her lips gaping in absolute disbelief. "How could God loving men turn their backs on those in need? May the lord forgive them, but they will have to help Creightel sooner or later. Otherwise our knights will have no one left to come home to…" Her eyes darted away from him nervously, choosing instead to gaze down the empty streets. "But…there is too much at stake for any of us to give up. You are brave, Joachim, and I know you are doing all you can."

"It's never enough." The young nobleman breathed a soft sigh through his lips, tracing her warm face with his eyes, and the desperation she tried to conceal from him. "I have a feeling my life will be expended trying to find out. The villagers hate me, and you could be putting yourself at risk by associating with me. If I am going to fade from this earth, perhaps watching me fail to my very last day will bring them some happiness." Often times during the course of the four-month period he wondered why nothing could make him feel anything except personal discontent. No matter how hard he tried to cheer up, he could not rid himself of the knowledge his incompetence would stain the Armster name forever. The Armster Manor would be an empty household without a single person from his deceased line to reside in it, and its magnificent assets would be passed down to the vassal he loathed almost as much as Walter.

Yet, Catherine's soft words restored his fading hope, and drew his attention to watching her head lower thoughtfully. "What about your own happiness? Do I not make you happy? Is …living for me…not enough?" Her words choked in her throat, and single tear slid down her fine cheek, but she did not lift a hand to wipe it away. Instead, she continued to avert her eyes, almost as if fearing he would see too far into her thoughts. Joachim had never before observed her deliberately trying to conceal herself from him. His stance became rigid when the wind scraped against his cold cheeks. The wind swept around Catherine's hair, and caused the green bow to untie so the elements mercilessly battered the two unfastened tails.

A silence settled over her lips for a long moment, and Joachim did not dare try to change the subject. He watched the single tear strand itself against her cheek, and her graceful lashes soon lift alongside her quivering lips, wordlessly confirming her regained optimism. Her gentle green eyes gazed at him for a long time, and without warning, her hand slid away from his and lifted to his face. The sensation of her soft fingers warmed his numbing cheeks, and whilst her hand caressed his smooth visage, a mysterious aura of joy resonated within her voice. "If you will not live for me, at least believe what I have to say. Times have been difficult, but I promise you will never feel lonely again."

"What do you mean?" He cocked his head, for every part of him sought to see into the thoughts she kept closed from him. It pained him to know he did not have the right to ask. So many times he kept his feelings locked away from her, refusing to reveal them out of fear of being vulnerable.

_Catherine…you try so valiantly to keep me from following in my father's footsteps. You have every right to keep things from me. What could possibly bring me joy at a time like this?_

"I must return home. My father will be waiting for me." The lady turned her back to the wind, but did not move when his hand reached and touched the soft tails of her ribbon. Without daring to address the topic again, his hands re-tied the ribbon into a bow, but when he tried to slide his hand away, she reached over her shoulder and touched his wrist. She pulled him closer to her, nearly pressing him against her back, and her parting whisper made him fall still.

"You will see."

* * *

The snow refused to come, but the hold of darkness dominated the sunlight. The days were shorter in late January, and the nights blacker and longer than any other month of the year. Joachim rarely slept more than four hours a day, and his anxiety had reached its breaking point. The cold night made him shiver as he sat against the windowpane of his bedroom, looking down at the manor grounds and the tiny orange lights burning against the entrapping blackness. The sickly young lord had not gone to bed that night, but paced back and forth around the room, until his eyes captured the image of fire dancing in the village. The tiny forms of light moved through the darkness, gradually nearing the Armster Manor during the minutes he spent pressed against the window. One shaking hand continuously wiped away the warm condensation his breaths left against the window's cold surface, whilst the other hand caressed the hilt of his sword. It was going to be a long night.

The glowing procession of flames grew gradually nearer. Within the darkness he saw the shapes of people hurrying up the path to his peaceful manor, but in a sullen silence, the young lord leapt from the window ledge and darted to the door of the room. The tails of his robes fanned behind him as he made his way through the dimly lit corridors, and a frown of restlessness flashed across his lips before his tense frame was nearly bowled over from colliding straight into Maurizio. "What the hell are you doing here?" Joachim hissed while giving the knight an irate glare after realizing Maurizio was not alone. Accompanying him were Jezebel and Emmaline, who backed away from seeing the lord's face darken suspiciously.

"Everyone has lost their minds!" Emmaline interceded before Maurizio could explain. The lady's deep brown eyes shone with the simplest form of fear. "They decided they are going to take matters into their own hands – and they are coming for you!"

Maurizio straightened his stance, before withdrawing the sword he kept at his side. "I came to warn you." The knight's voice was grave. "Almost the entire village thinks you are responsible. They have already arrived before the entrance doors, and I daresay they are in quite an obnoxious state of affairs."

Everyone looked to the pale young man as if he held all the answers to their predicament. The situation was grim at best, and Joachim could only answer by drawing his sword. The motion made Jezebel's body tremble, and her hands fly over her face at the sight of the metallic sword's smooth blade glinting under the candlelight reflecting off its unstained surface. "You cannot be serious!" Her jaw dropped when Joachim's adamant demeanor did not waver in the least. "You are out numbered two hundred to two! Not only that but you are ill – what chance do you stand against a bunch of rioting peasants?"

"Violence will be my last resort. It would be best if you ran and hid yourselves somewhere, because they may turn on you as well if they know you are here." Joachim hurried off down the hall without waiting for Maurizio follow. His heart raced in his chest, and his breaths were shallow, but he pushed onward without giving a second thought to his own welfare. What did he have to lose by confronting those who mocked and ridiculed him? The safety of the manor and his father's honor was in his hands, and no matter what he faced, he would let nothing stop him from protecting it. If he died in the attempt, at least it would be in the heart of battle…though it pained him to know his opponents would be his own subjects. It would be a dishonorable way to die, but under the circumstances he had no time to choose.

The lord skidded in front of the entrance doors, where dozens of serfs and servants struggled to keep closed against the banging and shouts coming from the other side. Upon arriving with Maurizio at his side, he waved those few who made up his entourage out of harms way. "Do not stay here to protect me! If you feel inclined, flee into the fields, or guard the other side of the manor. I will deal with this mob myself." Joachim ran toward the doors, ignoring the anxious calling of his servants to stay back when a particularly loud thump caused the entire foundation of the entranceway to tremble.

"This is insane!" He heard Maurizio shout as he pulled the great doors open and stepped out in front of a hoard of shouting and cursing peasants.

Whether or not his decision to emerge from the safety of the manor walls could hardly be considered a wise one when he stood against two hundred raging people. Almost every single one of them carried a torch or weapon. Their glaring eyes locked upon him the instant his pasty form contrasted against the enveloping nightscape. It was almost as if the lord had thrown himself before a pack of mad dogs, and his voice was nearly lost amidst their audacious shouts. "Listen to me!" He shouted over their voices, causing the mob's volume to die down a slight notch, but not enough to restrain a few peasants from throwing objects his way. Several times Joachim had to dart back to avoid being knocked unconscious by hurdling stones, though things could not have gone much worse when they began pelting rotten food. Red tomatoes were sent spattering over the steps, and several chunks of over ripe cabbage flew passed his face.

It was difficult to decipher an exact comment coming from the frenzied screaming lips of almost every person in the rabble, but he persisted in his attempt to retain some kind of order. "Why are you attacking the home of your lord, who wants nothing more to end this crisis as much as any of you do? There is no suspect because there is no evidence to lead me to one! No one has confessed, and I shall not give up until the one who committed these atrocities is found-" Although he was shouting the words he held in his heart for the people to hear, none of them seemed to care they witnessed the overwhelming aura of sadness wash across his temperate countenance. He gave a quick glance to Maurizio for assistance, but neither the knight's eyes or lips returned the silent plea. To his growing dismay, Maurizio drew back toward the doors, and quietly remained in the shadows.

From somewhere in the crowd, a voice jolted him. "You're the one responsible! Your nothing but a foul vampire! Ever since you became our lord, the winter has receded, and darkness has befallen our families! It is all from your doing!" Joachim's lips parted, disbelieving the sting of their hatred. "Why would I do such a horrible thing?" He countered, and kicked the remnants of cabbage leaves and rotten vegetables off the manor steps. His calm blue eyes began to fester with pending rage, and a feral shout erupted from his throat as the sole of his boot stomped on a moldy tomato. "I am not a vampire! Vampires don't exist! You cannot blame the cause of our misfortune upon creatures of myth!"

The mob's rage was beginning to rise to its boiling point. Joachim's hand tightened further around his sword until he felt the weapon's silver hilt dig into his palm. At any moment the more outraged members of the rabble would try to advance toward him, and the feeling of being outnumbered and alone throbbed inside his whirling mind like an open wound. If he fought back, it would only confirm their mixed up accusations, and if he did nothing he was at the mercy of their wrath. He did not have time to decide which was worse before a familiar voice cried through the angry shouts.

"Stop it all of you! Leave him alone, for all of you are nothing but a bunch of cowards to bully an ill man so ruthlessly! Can you not see he cares about your plight enough to stand against you all without retreating like most other lords would have if they faced these circumstances?"

At the very back of the crowd he saw Catherine's glittering green eyes gazing up at him, while she attempted to fight her way through. A particular group of three men refused to let her pass, and one responded by grabbing hold of her front and shoving her onto the ground. "Close that mouth of yours, wench! It is you, who is blind to this fiend's wicked ways, and a woman with your unruly tongue has no place among us!" Joachim's breath left his lungs when the men surrounded the place where she lay on the ground, and between the groups of raging peasants, his eyes managed to witness the trio of men lashing her trembling body with a leather whip. The sound of their laughter screamed in his ears louder than all the people in the mob combined, and with a horrified scream, he lunged against the first of the peasants, raising his sword and slashing it at all who got in his path.

Joachim's eyes burned as fiercely they resembled the hatred of a dragon, and in barely a second his sword's clean blade was stained red by blood. "_Get away from her_!" His screaming voice rang with rage and pain, and he was blind to everything around him except the fallen girl whose flesh the men's whip lashed and bled. One of the three kicked her with his boot and spat on her face, whilst her tender form lay battered and gasping for air, and her hands groped the earth with a dying hope of escaping the blows from the brutal weapon. "_You bastards! What did she do except be a voice of reason to try and calm your madness! You whip her as if she is a dog, you foul unholy wretches!_" Joachim's sword continued to cut down any man that tried to impede his progress, but no matter how desperate or reckless he was, groups of people fought back and surrounded him on all sides. In a matter of moments the distraught young lord was subdued by the retaliation of their clubs and fists.

He felt the sharp jolts of pain encompass him from the heavy blow he took to the chest, and yet his blurring vision sought only the fallen woman somewhere in the belly of the rioting mob. It consumed every part of his heart, and even though they knocked him down, his sword continued to swing and slice the heels of those standing closest to where he lay. One by one men fell, but more emerged to replace them, and it was not long before one of the men who had whipped Catherine appeared and stomped on his wrist. Bright spots of pain blinded Joachim's vision, and he felt a thin trickle of blood slide down his lips and the coarse sensation of rope binding his feet and hands. "Let's lynch him!" Someone yelled above the crowed, and while the infuriated peasants stood around the bound body of the crippled lord, he struggled to push himself forward like a fish out of water until a hand stuck him down once again.

"Why not take a closer look at this fiend? Tis' no wonder he is a vampire, his skin is paler than snow. How could God allow an abomination like this to survive for so long?"

Laughter broke among the more passive observers in the crowed but no laughter was stronger than those who dragged the white-haired youth across the dirt. He felt their kicks and the globular trickles of their spit slide down his face, but he lifted his head against their rebuke, his voice clearing long enough to rasp. "_May you all burn in hell for harming her!_" He was certain those words were about to be his last. If they did not succeed at lynching him, he was almost certain their beatings would give him a slow, painful death. Blow after blow he waited for the final moment to come as he struggled to free himself from the ropes, but as if the world had come to a sudden standstill, the noise of the mob died into silence.

Joachim struggled to look up in search of the source of their suddenly quiet behavior, and choked a bloodied gasp at the sight of an armored figure moving through the crowed. A pair of black glittering eyes looked down upon his broken body, and the sound of a deep but imposing voice resonated through the dark night sky. "Leave him. He is not the one you seek. Such aggressive displays accomplish nothing. Would the beloved Lady Arabella condone your cruel treatment of her only son? I think not." Gazing down at him was none other than Walter. The lord's vibrant red hair coiled around the man's confident but somber face. Although Walter's words were soft, he had a way of carrying his voice so all heard the question and gave no answer except awkward sounds of shuffling. "My dear friends," He added. "Look at him. You have punished him enough for his incompetence. What point is there in killing him? After all, he is the son of Lord Zaeviean, and to bring such a proud bloodline to an unbecoming end would defile the honored names of your former lord and lady."

The silence lingered in the air for what felt like hours, but only after a few tense minutes did footsteps thump over the ground to announce the dispersal of the rabble. Joachim waited until the sounds disappeared before he tried to free his hands from his bonds, but was aided when Walter bent over and cut the rope with the razor sharp tips of his gauntlets. "Do not move." The firm sound of the other lord's voice made Joachim's weary head fall upon the dirt as a pair of hands pulled him up and carried his limp body. After a few moments he fought to escape the man's gripping hold, but fell still when Walter's dark eyes softened with a brief form of sympathy that passed as quickly as it appeared. "Your lady bled for your sake. I had Sir Maurizio carry her inside. At least her life will be spared. Though, I regret, the other has not…"

"The other _what_?" Joachim choked between breathless gasps. "If she truly lives, you must let me go to her…!"

"You can do nothing for her now." Walter shook his head. "What is important is your survival. A woman's welfare places second to your own."

Joachim's fearful countenance was consumed by a grimace of restrained pain. "I refuse to believe that." If he had the option, he would have made his body take her lashings without question. "She did nothing except speak on my behalf, and for that she suffered needlessly. It is my fault…for not having the strength to protect her…"

"Not everything is based upon strength alone." Walter's voice softened, drawing the youth's gaze to the man's pale yet comforting visage. "Love is what drives one to do the unthinkable. It drives us to create, imagine, and believe things are how we see them. It also has consequences, for love is as dangerous as it is necessary. I doubt your will would have changed hers." Without another word, the red-haired lord ascended the steps and brought him behind the safety of the manor walls. It was a refuge Joachim had become too accustomed to hiding behind over the years. It was strange to be carried in such a manner, and to realize the lord tended to him as if he were a child, even though his susceptible condition could not have shown otherwise. Walter's steps were swift and silent, and not a sound emanated through the silent air except the dull swish of his cape fluttering alongside his stealth-like movements.

Walter laid him down in his bed and left the room. The silence was almost more excruciating than the pain, for his thoughts continued to center around the whereabouts of Catherine. Yet, only when his gaze drifted into the mirror on his nightstand did he catch a glimpse of his unpleasant appearance. Dried blood stained his pearly white hair, and his face bore the effects of receiving numerous kicks and blows, though it was the growing pain he felt in his ribcage that kept him in the bed. An almost unbearable throbbing pain coursed through him, and he feared what it may have felt like if he had not worn his armor.

A few minutes passed before Walter returned with five of Joachim's servants. Joachim hated having to tolerate their watchful eyes staring at his mangled figure. Nevertheless, he remained complacent when the servants approached his bedside and removed his clothes. "Please, lay still." Walter's whispered soothingly, and the discomfort wearing on his ashen face from watching the other lord step forward as a servant set a pail of hot water on the nightstand. "You are weary." The man's lips formed an elegant smile, whilst he removed his gauntlets, revealing smooth, contoured hands. "Try to rest. You have broken a rib, and I fear your wrist has been fractured also. Tis' fortunate you sustained no other serious injuries, but these will take time to clean and bandage. If you permit me, I will aid your servants so this is handled with extreme care."

Joachim could not find the strength to argue. Instead, he watched Walter's hand dip into the pail and wring out a cloth and swab the gashes in his flesh. The servants also attended to their lord diligently but kept their lips silent and their eyes averted, as Walter attempted to relieved the tension between he and the young man. "After your wounds are cleaned you will see they look worse than they are. Admittedly, it has been some time since you and I last met, though I wish t'was under better circumstances. The news of Creightel's uprising reached many parts of these lands, yet I did not expect it to elevate to this scale." Walter's expression softened while he gently massaged the young lord's pale chest with the cloth. Joachim made an effort to hide his discomfort. He tried to turn so his backside would face Walter instead, but succeeded in shifting upon the wounded part of his rib, so that the agonizing shock he received made him cry out. The young nobleman squeezed his eyes shut as his frame shuddered from feeling Walter's ice-cold hands lift him up and turn him on his back again.

"You should listen when I tell you not to move." Walter's smiled weakly. The man's ashen hands wrung the bloodied water out of the cloth. After cleaning the wounds, he picked up the cloth bandages that Joachim's servants had left for him. The bandages would support Joachim's broken rib, as well as cover the bruises that covered his torso. Walter's eyes gave the bandages a discerning look before he unfolded them and began to wrap them around the young man's chest. Although the man's touch was cold, Joachim was unable to ignore the fact that Walter was meticulous and careful to avoid injuring him further. Walter's caring gesture made Joachim's voice soften. "You…disliked my father…so why do you help me?"

For a split second, a look of discomfort wore across Walter's face, and the other lord's lips pursed for a lengthy time. "I will not deny your father and I were far from comrades," He began, as though choosing his words carefully. "However tis' a petty thing to dwell upon, considering of the lady he married. Perhaps you could say, I was rather…impressed by her quiet and gracious mannerisms. You are her son and her memory lives through you, thus I know her soul would weep if anything ill came of her child."

Joachim felt a severe tightening in his throat. Somehow Walter's response, although empathetic, seemed torn between truth and concealment. The soft glimmer in the man's eyes hid something undetectable by nature, but still present as the lord's hand touched something suspended against his collarbone that his elaborately designed armor did not conceal. The young lord's face was barely kept composed from noticing Walter's hand stroked a glittering black stone, which he could not resist trying to point at as a silence inhibited their discussion. "What is that stone you are wearing?"

The feeble sounding question seemed to make the other lord's smile waver, and as if greatly troubled by it, his hand tucked the stone out of sight. Joachim wondered whether or not his question was too abrupt, especially after watching Walter turn away. The other lord's voice died into a low murmur in response. "Tis' nothing but a simple stone made of ebony. It uplifts me when I keep it close, though this object is far from what you should place your attentions upon now. Rest is in order until you regain your strength. I trust you will stay in bed and sleep."

The vague reaction was so eccentric Joachim did not entirely comprehend it. However, in an attempt to avoid discomforting him further, a small smile crossed his lips. He could barely believe that he was smiling under such circumstances, least of all in the presence of Walter. Nevertheless, when the red-haired lord turned to face him again, his dark eyes greedily took in the young man's gratitude. "Walter…" Joachim began, almost hesitantly. "I…am grateful for your help."

They stared at each other for a long while. Joachim could not overlook the fact that a delighted grin appeared upon Walter's lips when he at last replied. "You need not thank me, Joachim. No harm will ever befall you whilst you are under my care." With a flick of his long cape, Walter made a short bow, which made his red hair cascade around his face and shoulders in graceful waves. Joachim felt something inside him tremble at the sight – though, for once, it was out of admiration rather than fear. The man was truly beautiful to look at. Joachim felt his heart begin thumping rapidly in his chest as their eyes met. Before he could even begin to think of what to say, the other lord approached his bedside again. The painful incident he had just experienced seemed to vanish from his thoughts the moment Walter's hand touched his cheek. He was used to feeling the man's gauntlets – yet now, what he felt was smooth, human flesh touching his own. In his weakened state, he could do nothing except lay still while attempting to hide his excitement beneath a composed exterior. Walter sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned over him, his eyes drawing the young man in completely. However, unlike the paralyzing feeling Joachim experienced before, this time, he deliberately refrained from moving as Walter's face neared his own. The man's hot breath licked at his cheeks, and his dark eyes were so close that he wondered if their starlit pools might swallow him whole. Up close, Walter's gaze possessed a distinct and mysterious beauty, not unlike the night sky, as though when one looked at them they could stare forever and ponder the mysteries they concealed. Though he could not detect Walter's thoughts, he was transfixed by his presence, and his breath hitched in his chest when he noticed Walter's lips hovering above his own. Whether he was fatigued, traumatized, or simply intrigued – he could not say – but he did not turn away. Walter's hand caressed Joachim's soft, ivory hair. The gesture lulled the young man, who returned it with a gracious smile as his once ivory face flushed a shade of crimson.

Although his mind screamed for him to turn his face away, the surge of want and desire flooding through him overtook his rationality. Before he could withdraw another breath, Walter's lips touched his, drawing him into a kiss so deep that his body fell limp as the other lord encircled him in his arms. For the first time in his life, a feeling of security and acceptance enveloped him. Walter's hold was gentle but strong at the same time, as though promising him that his pain and fears would be washed away in their moment together. He felt Walter's lips trail to his neck and kiss the delicate flesh, his hands gently groping across his pale chest, touching every contour as carefully as if he might shatter like glass. He wondered if he was dreaming. The fact that he was kissing his most hated adversary was beyond his most wild imaginations. Yet, the touch of Walter's lips was unmistakable. He could feel the man's passion flowing into him when their lips met again, locking in a fervent and hungry kiss, unable to resist curiosity and temptation. A part of Joachim hated Walter as much as he admired him. His mind began to spin as Walter's lips trailed to his collarbone and eagerly covered the soft flesh. Yet, it was becoming too much for the young man to bear. Joachim's mind drifted in and out of focus as his chest began to heave, desperate to regain control over himself as his consciousness faded. Walter's lips lifted, and their eyes locked once more. Joachim could barely comprehend what had just occurred. If his servants had seen them, he was certain the Vatican would have him imprisoned – and more likely put to death for his transgression. However, Walter seemed unbothered by the possibility. In fact, the man's expression remained soft and calm, not once indicating the slightest hint of apprehension. Why was he not fearful? Why did the laws and boundaries of society fail to secure him in its grasp? And…what was he hiding? The more he tried to think, the wearier he became. Within moments, Joachim's consciousness pulled him into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Although he suffered inflictions that should have kept him bedridden for the next three days, his sleep did not last. After mere hours had passed, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Unsurprisingly, Walter was absent when he awoke. It did not take him long to reflect upon what had happened between them. It disgusted and shamed him when he realized that Walter had seduced him – though willingly. Despite the other lord's compassion toward him, he sensed that the man's intentions were less than candid. Not only that but he had no idea what had happened to Catherine. His concern for her temporarily overcame his confusion. No matter what, he was determined to go to her. The young man struggled to stand after he placed his feet on the floor. The attempt nearly caused him to fall but his hand quickly grasped onto the bedpost for support. He waited a moment before he began to walk, and reached his clothes and boots that were set out on the end of the bed.

By no means was he supposed to have gotten out of bed, especially after Walter told him to rest. A grimace of pain and fear wore upon his ashen visage as he stumbled down the corridor in search of the guestrooms. Each step was agonizing but the thought of finding Catherine outweighed all of his other priorities. It relieved him to know that the guestrooms were located in his wing of the manor, so the trek would not be too far for his injured body to tolerate. Fainting threatened to end his determined endeavor, for his body was relentless in the way it defied the will of his mind. If he had to crawl on his hands and knees to see her, it would not have inhibited him in the least. Nevertheless, the young man's shame ran deep. He had done something unspeakable, unforgivable, and perhaps even damming to his very soul. Even when he wanted to believe the church did not concern him, his shame and doubt proved the contrary. _What is happening to me?_ He thought, his face warping into a mask of self-contempt. He was unsure if he could live with what he had done, especially if his suspicions about Walter were true. _What if Catherine discovered my indiscretion? _The thought plagued him to no end. Though unmarried, as well as in a position of privilege, his love for her made him powerless. Nothing would ever change his feelings for her, not even Walter. He hated the man all the more now for his transgression, for the fact that lord's kiss had sealed his fate. Joachim was certain he would be damned for it.

Before long, his haggard form arrived in the guest wing where over a dozen people stood outside one of the chamber doors. Their reactions to him were instantaneous and grim. Walter was among those loitering around. "I told you to remain in bed…" The red-haired lord's voice hinged on impatience, though his face could not have looked more composed. "You are still exhausted and I do not think this is the best time to speak to Catherine." Though the other lord addressed him politely, a look passed between them that confirmed Joachim's shame. Indeed, Walter remembered their little transgression and derived some form of pleasure from it. Dizzy spell swept through him that moment, which forced him to lean against the wall, his breathing labored and shallow. Beads of perspiration trickled down the side of his face and dampened his pasty flesh. Even though he was feverish, he refused to grant Walter the satisfaction of controlling him. Walter's concern simply fuelled his desire to defy him.

Joachim returned Walter's empathy with a fierce scowl. "I must see her. Your opinion is of no significance." He approached the group of servants boldly, and held his head high, however their glum faces disturbed him. Not a single person with the sole exception of Walter dared to look in his eyes as he moved toward the door. Something about the silence made a cold shudder tingle down his spine, and when he feebly grasped the door, he looked over his shoulder upon hearing Walter's voice lower to a whisper. "…Joachim…please accept my condolences."

The pale blue eyes of the younger lord widened, as if the invisible force of panic had sucked all the air within his lunged out. "_What_?" Joachim's trembling hand flew over his chest in response to the wild beats of his heart against his tender ribcage. All of his thoughts were overtaken by alarm, and without hesitation, he swung the door open and barged into the room. Part of him held the most sincere form of dread at the thought of sighting Catherine's lifeless body laying on the bed, her gorgeous emerald eyes closed never to open again, never to see the wave of anguish that would stain his soul until his dying breath. "_Catherine!_" His voice let out a desperate wail of sorrow, however he halted in the doorway after looking at the bed and realizing she was not there but instead huddled on the floor in front of a window. Three female servants were crowded around her.

He wanted to hurry to her and exclaim his joy at finding her alive, but Catherine's grieving expression made him fall silent. The ringlets of her thick raven hair were untidy, and her gentle bosom shook in releasing inconsolable sobs. The moment she caught sight of him, she turned her face away and continued to weep, the tears cascaded down her cheeks. At first, Joachim was at a loss of what to do, since the cause of her sorrow was yet unknown to him. The servants rose from their crouched positions around the woman, and like the others that stood in front of the door, they kept their eyes averted.

It took all of his remaining strength to find the nerve to shatter the silence. "What has happened? Why are all of you looking at me-" Joachim felt something in his throat strangle the words from his throat when he saw the bloodied rags the women were trying to hide. It was then he felt a part of his soul scream when his mouth could not, and the direst sensation of dread wrap around his trembling body and suffocate him in the silence of that lonely room. The youth's wandering eyes darted madly from one servant to the other in search of the answer as his heart frantically thumped against his chest. The sound of Catherine's distraught weeping increased his turmoil. No one gave him the answer he sought, which resulted in the sudden explosion of his alarm and fear. "Tell me! What happened to her? Why does she weep-"

"Joachim…" Between the sounds of her sobs, Catherine's voice was faint. The young man's rage feigned when he stared at a tiny blanket cradled in her arms. As he stared at the object, a heavy weight set itself against his already wounded chest. The lord's face went deathly pale when one of the servant women stepped forward, her deep brown eyes glistening and gazing at his shocked expression.

"Milord…t'was a few hours ago that she lost her child."

Joachim's hands flew over his face, and after a pause, a strangled sob choked through his voice. "What child?"

The servant remained in a troubled silence; however the lord's hands slid down his face from hearing the sound of Catherine's heartbroken whisper. Her voice was barely audible but enough to draw his eyes to the tiny bundle pressed tightly to her bosom. "Yours."

The whirling thoughts inside his mind gave way to the tears trickling down his smooth cheeks, whilst the profound wave of anguish swept through his entire soul and destroyed the last flicker of his dying spirit. At that moment his surroundings seemed cold, lifeless, and forlorn. Not even he could comprehend how words managed to fill the air, despite how rapidly the very description of grief consumed his shattered mind. "This can't be! I could never do such thing as to father a child-"

The voice of denial was silenced by the tormented memories plaguing his mind. His weakened frame crumpled to the floor in a fit of sorrow, a bitter lament that not a single living soul could soothe. A sorrowful wail fled from his lips as he made his rage and grief known to God. "Why? A…life…so precious…taken. Yet, you never told me a new life grew within your womb Catherine! A child…whose blood was of my own…and whose life was…brief…so very brief…like my own…"

"I wanted to tell you!" Catherine clutched the tiny bundle in her arms, trying to show him the tiny infant beneath its folds. He turned his head away, his chest heaving, as crystalline tears stained his cheeks. He could not find the strength to look at her. If only his own wretched existence could be exchanged for the sake of his unborn child! A child who died before truly living. Yet, a tiny part of his remaining self-control made him listen to the sound of Catherine's solemn voice. "This was your child. I kept it a secret…so none would know the love we had shared. I wanted to ensure you had…a reason to live…and to protect it from the cruel words of everyone else…who would think of it as nothing but a sin."

Such words only made him weep harder. Catherine's soft hands stroked the bundle, her feelings of maternal love unchanged by the pain of her loss. The lady's bright emerald eyes blinked away the tears, a gesture he was envious he could not make, for the immeasurable influence of sadness had overwhelmed him. The grieving lord allowed his tears to flood every ounce of joy from his body, and his lips trembled against the dull murmur of his thoughts. "Why…do you try so hard…to give me things that were never meant to be? A child…_my child_… is gone before I could realize what a miracle was. Before I could comprehend what I had done."

"You did what your heart entailed you to do." Catherine's voice was filled with sorrow. Regardless of her efforts to keep it from him, he felt the corroding effect it had on her as well as himself. "The love you have for this child…a life that never lived…is enough. I heard not a single cry when she was placed in my arms…and I knew that moment she was too small…and too frail a creature to live."

"_She_?" Joachim whispered under his breath, his eyes swollen and red from his tears.

"Yes." Her emerald eyes drew his gaze, but not himself to where she lay. Joachim found no will to rise off his knees, since the will he had was all but destroyed by his misery. "Will you not look upon your daughter just once…? Come and see her…she appears quite peaceful now. I can see no pain in her face…she…looks as though she is sleeping."

Joachim tried to wipe the tears from his eyes, even as more continued to drip down his face. His dulled blue eyes fled from the sight of the tiny bundle she held, which he knew contained the product of a love that was as doomed as the child itself. He cared not about the rumors that would soon circulate throughout the village, nor did his mind dwell upon the punishments the church would sanction against him. Together they made her, and together they would be forced to bury her. Such irony drove him to loathe his weak and pathetic body but to loathe even more the ones responsible for his grief. It was three men who lashed the woman until the child was prematurely dispelled from her womb, and it was God who allowed such an atrocity to happen. A God he never truly believed in, but who seemed more real and crueler from realizing a miracle was given to him, but then so mercilessly taken away. Life had rarely shown him kindness. If he had not been with Walter during the hour of the child's birth, he might have been able to comfort Catherine. His lust and greed had consumed him…and God was punishing him for it.

"I have not the heart to look." He forced himself to his feet in spite of his exhaustion. The room felt as if it was trapping him forever in his sadness, and no longer could he walk through his manor without remembering the tiny life that passed away within its walls.

"_Please _Joachim." Catherine persisted. "Will you not take a glimpse at her? Just to hold her in your arms is all I ask you to do! Look upon what is yours." Catherine sobbed so miserably that he dare not turn his back upon the beautiful woman who tried to give him so much – even herself and a child to bring him happiness. Without a word, he made a grave nod and walked to her, whereupon his arms accepted the nearly weightless bundle of cloth. The young lord was so grief-stricken he simply stood motionless, reluctant to blink or to reveal the returning storm of rage and pain that engulfed his whole being.

Catherine's plea echoed through his thoughts. Very lightly, his fingers pulled the cloth away, and his lips quivered at the tiny creature he cradled in his arms. It was barely ten inches long, and the digits of its fingers and toes were not completely formed, but what drew his attention was the baby's little face. Despite its tiny size, the human face he gazed upon made tears slide down his cheeks.

_So this is what she looked like…within the protection of my lady's womb. A tiny, fragile, little girl…who is so cold and limp in my arms. Nothing about her is complete…and nothing about me ever will be from this moment forward. If only she had lived, for I would have given her all the love in my heart._

He did not realize his hands were shaking as he folded the blanket over the infant as his he whispered faintly. "I have seen her now. Though her life is no more, my daughter deserved a name. Give her one." The lord passed the blanket to one of the attending servants, his head lowering so the soft strains of his pearly white hair curtained around his somber visage. He rubbed his brow and turned away, unable to search through his sorrow in order to speak on the matter ever again. From that moment forward, the memory of the incident would be forever locked away in the deepest and most vulnerable part of him.

The lady's green eyes blinked away the tears, however her words sounded strong compared to her withered figure. "Let us call her Kali. Kali Armster."

Joachim only response was a stiff nod of agreement.. He released a heavy sigh after admiring his daughter's name; yet noticed a figure dressed in a black cassock was waiting in the doorway. It pained him to have to leave Catherine, however it would give both he and her time apart to grieve in solitude. As he turned toward the door, he directed a short glance at one of his servants. "Ensure Catherine is taken care of." He muttered as if to himself, since his monotone voice made it difficult to decipher whom he was addressing. "Allow her to keep the infant as long she requires. The infant is to be wrapped in my mother's finest white shroud…but keep its face covered."

"Yes milord." The servant woman replied with a deep bow of her head. Joachim walked to the door where the priest stood waiting. He was tempted to continue onward without addressing the elderly man, but after he closed the door behind him, he realized the groups of servants – including Walter – were not present. The young man's tentative steps came to an abrupt halt. He avoided the old man's probing gaze and wanted nothing more than time to think things through, however the intense inquiry of the priest made it impossible.

Father Genesio's face was calm. Despite the man's empathy, his eyes glared upon Joachim reproachfully. "What became of the child?"

Joachim looked up at Genesio's face with a thin flicker of hatred. It was evident by his silence what had happened. As always, he was forced to endure such insensitive questions with a kind of cold courtesy he had learned from watching his father over the years. If any other had seen his monotonous reaction, they might have thought the bitterness emanating through his icy eyes was identical to lord Zaeviean's, however his soft words contradicted it.

"The infant died. It was prematurely born and too small to survive." Joachim eyes diverted from the priest, expecting the question that would come next. Yet when it did, his heart seared in his chest as if the church had burnt him like the many people left burned alive at the stake.

"Was the child baptized?" The priest stared at him, seeming to be prepared to go into the matter further if the young man gave the slightest indication of lying. It was not surprising when Joachim's attempt to be solemn was overwrought by the feelings of woe. Rivers of tears flowed over his wan cheeks, and his throat choked when he gave the straightforward answer. "It did not live long enough."

"I see." The old priest's brow furrowed, and the look of contempt sketched across his face made Joachim's insides churn in a state of apprehension. A short silence came and went, before the priest folded his coarse hands and shook his head. That gesture alone was enough to make his throat lost by both his feelings of shock and grief from hearing Genesio's voice firm almost instantaneously. "Tell me young man; did you father this ill-begotten infant?"

Joachim's face paled almost whiter than snow. "The child was mine."

"Born out of wedlock?"

The questions were becoming increasingly intrusive, however for the lord it was too much, and when he gave his answer he hung his head. "Yes."

The priest's thin lips curled. "It all stands to reason then. Original sin and the temptation of women are nothing but a snare Satan uses to lure the reckless. I suppose that means your chastity was lost for the sake of that sinful creation."

"What are you implying? How can an innocent child be unworthy of God's love?"

"This has little to do with love, milord." Genesio's silvery eyes glared at the young man, his words a severe reprimand. "Lust is one of the seven deadliest sins. When you lay beside a woman and plant your seed inside her garden of sin, lust is the only emotion worthy of explaining your imprudence. The lady is not even of noble birth, though perhaps the death of the child will conceal the scandalous act you brought upon your family name."

"You would label love as scandalous? You dare to speak of my child as if she were nothing but a sinful burden!" Joachim's hands clenched into fists, his once bitter eyes blazing with disobedient fury. "The one you call God made everyone equal. Catherine is no exception."

"God made us equal but some are more worthy of His attention than others. There are those who are ignorant and wretched, and those who govern society. Catherine has no more place at your side than she has in your bed."

"I will hear no more of this!" Joachim raised a hand, taking a swift step back so that his rage would not make him do something irrational. His grief was enough to carry without enduring the harsh blow of prejudice. The tragedy of losing a child was so deep to him he could not have found the desire to explain it to a man whose mind was set. Although Genesio's attitude was unsurprising, he was unwilling to allow the man to pry into his private affairs. Without hesitating, he hissed under his breath. "You claim to know so much about love arrogance has made you blind to it!"

"You are in no position to make accusations!" Genesio's rough hand seized him by the collar of his robe so quickly the stunned lord had no time to evade the constraining hold, until the priest wrenched him forward, holding his frail throat with such force his infuriated snarl was diminished by the jolts of pain he wrought against the delicate nobleman. "Do you not understand what you have done? It is not enough that you are weak and hated by the villagers but now I must tell you that your child cannot be buried alongside your family. Not only because it was born out of wedlock, but also because it was not baptized as a Christian. Those two things shall condemn it to an eternity in limbo."

"Lies!" Joachim shouted through gritted teeth with hands clawing against the priest's hold until he managed to fight his way free. The instant he was let go, his weak body staggered to stand until his back hit the wall. The young lord's voice was choked in anguish brought upon by the injustice that was his life. "Is it not enough for me to lose a child this way?" His voice rose the point that his shouting echoed down the corridor. Tears dripped off his chin as his haggard figure lunged unsuccessfully at the priest, whilst the bitter words he screamed were lost in his pain. Joachim raised his quavering fists and unclenched them, gazing at the pallid skin covering his fine hands in disgust, before he fell to his knees on the floor and grasped the priest's cassock. Without hesitation, his shoulders sank and his chest shook, allowing him to weep at the feet of the impervious cleric. "Look at me, father! This wretched body of mine has suffered countless misfortunes. Please, I beg you, do not let my child's soul suffer like mine must! She belongs in a place next to my mother and father, for how can you condemn an innocent child to a place in hell? What sin was she capable of? It is I who should be damned to hell, for it is I who committed the sin. Please allow her soul to rest in peace."

"It is not within my power to dispute the will of the church. Any child who dies without being baptized, let alone whose life was created out of wedlock as the product of lust, cannot be buried in a Christian cemetery. You must find another resting place." The priest's cold eyes stared down at the hapless youth, his face unmoved despite how desperately Joachim clung to the cassock. It seemed the young lord held a grip that would tear the cassock itself, but with one feral pull, the priest wrenched the fabric free of his clinched hands. A look of detest spread across the priest's aged face, causing his silver brow to knit and the lines of his lips to curve into a glower. "If you go to the cathedral tomorrow, you may confess yours sins, and only then can your own soul be spared. Till then, you are to say one hundred Hail Mary's and pray for forgiveness."

"If I pray, I will pray men like you are the ones who go to hell!" Joachim rose to his feet and spat on the priest's robe. "I will spit on any man who claims to be holy, for you are a priest who wears the mask of righteousness to hide a tainted heart. If your doctrine sends innocent babies who have done no ill will to hell, I want no part of your religion. I want nothing to do with your version of 'God'."

"What sacrilege does your poisonous tongue dare to speak aloud? Lest you want a permanent residence in Satan's domain, I demand you to hold your tongue and repent!" The priest's face reddened at the sight of the trembling nobleman, who shook his head and spat again on the front of the man's robe. By then Joachim's countenance was twisted by rage, moments away from losing all of what little composure remained. Part of him was so shattered he could not pick up the pieces of his former self, except to coldly denounce what remained of his beliefs. He wanted to have a hope in the church and in God, but too early in his life he was able to pick apart the significant faults with the

church, and in turn he could not trust in their prayers and concepts. The holy Bible was all he had left, but still the concept of God were nothing more to him than words written on parchment.

He was prepared to rip away the shackles of his faith, knowing his sudden need to object was based upon the simple fact he could not bear the death of his child. "I loved that frail little infant!" Joachim's entire frame shook from head to toe, and his eyes gleamed with a kind of desperation unknown to belong to any other human being except one possessing his rare kind of grief. His hand slid over his forehead, gently pushing back the strands of his soft white hair as his voice died to a whisper. "Out of all our virtues, love is the greatest. If we love our children, we can learn to love ourselves. My child was given a name. She was a human being …no matter how briefly she lived. I will never forget her, and if you refuse to bury my sweet child, I will bury her myself."

"Do as you will but you shall not bury her next to your baptized mother and father. A Christian cemetery has no place for ill begotten children." Genesio's rigid stance stiffened against the young man's quiet words.

Not a single hint of surprise fazed Joachim, and he turned his back upon the old man and began walking away. However, before he was out of earshot, he looked over his shoulder at the furious priest and added.

"Strange is it not, that a man like my father would be considered Christian, despite breaking one of the commandments that state _thou shalt not kill_ in the name of the church. Yet, when a guiltless baby dies without being baptized, hell is the only place the church will send it."


	12. Chapter 12: Lament

**Author's Note: **The previous chapter was one of the most difficult chapters for me to write, for obvious reasons. Here is yet another intense chapter. I know some of you are eager to know what will happen next. Unfortunately, I am still editing the rest of my story and making major changes in some parts. Although I won't be able to post a new chapter everyday, or sometimes even every other day, I will try to add something new whenever I can.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this chapter, though I am certain you will notice Joachim is not exactly in his right mind...

Oh yeah, one more thing to note. I used what happened to Catherine to explain Joachim's later desire to fight Leon (his hatred of whips)...also, very peculiarly, one of Joachim's in-game weaknesses is ice. I always wondered why. I hope the "cold" imagery associated with him (the color of his eyes), his father, snow, his white hair, and winter (a season which symbolizes death/darkness, as well as when he was extremely ill due to the cold) will shed some light on a few things...

Special Thanks:

**Rahar Moonfire:** I am glad to know that my previous chapter inspired so much emotion from you. The whole point of that chapter (for me) was to get the reader to react to Joachim's grief. I always thought that Joachim's rage (shown in the game cutscene before Leon fights him) stemmed from great tragedy. It seemed like all the pain he had inside built up until he couldn't handle it anymore. In this chapter, you will see some of that showing despite the fact he isn't a vampire yet. Everyone has a darker side, after all. :( As always, thank you so much for reading and reviewing.

**theghostisreal:** Thank you for taking the time to comment on my work. Chapter 11 was one of the most difficult passages for me to write, simply because of its delicate subject matter and the fact it needed to be done 'tastefully' (if that makes sense). I hope you will continue reading and I look forward to hearing what you think again if you decide to follow this story. Your comment made me feel like my hard work was worth it.

**MarishkaBelmont: **Thank you for reading my story and reviewing it. Although Joachim is my favourite character from LoI, I still find Walter extremely fascinating. The fact that Walter hides a great deal of himself from others makes him fun to write, especially when it comes to WalterXJoachim. I always wondered what happened between those two. Although capable of benevolence, it's clear that Walter is also capable of great cruelty as well. I hope you will continue reading and look forward to hearing from you again :)

**Chapter XII**

Joachim confined himself to his chamber and sat in front of his bedroom window, staring at the village in the distance. The dried remnants of tears still stained his cheeks while he stared at nothing in particular. It was a painful way to grieve, however, if chance happened to place Catherine in the same room as he, he knew his throat would be unable to speak a word of condolence. The woman had suffered enough without having to witness his depression as well. A loud knock on the door startled him but he had no intention of getting up to answer it. Instead, his attention returned to the windowpane. From somewhere in the room, a loud squeak resonated as the heavy door was pushed open, followed by the sounds of steps clinking over the floor. Despite knowing who had entered, his monotonous expression failed to reveal the sting of rage coursing through his veins.

"Joachim…I am sorry for your loss." The voice belonging to the caller was hesitant; trying to reach into the young man's bleak thoughts. The attempt for some form of conversation grew more desperate. "…Will you forgive me for what I did?"

The young lord's dull blue eyes stared at the one who asked so much of him. A long moment of silence continued until Joachim forced himself to respond. "You dare to ask me for forgiveness?" He chided, whilst allowing an emotionless chuckle to sound from his throat. "Do not flatter yourself. I will never forgive the cowardly dog that abandoned me to die."

"You do not understand!" The younger knight stood as still as stone but stepped back under his lord's intense glare. Maurizio's presence was no different than a rabbit placed before a wolf. At any moment, Joachim could have grabbed the young man round the neck and strangled the life out of him with his bare hands. The knight's voice weakened. "There were too many of them! I called to you to come inside the manor but you did not hear me!"

"Whether or not I heard you has nothing to do with this." Joachim hissed through his enamels, and as if some unseen force had animated his former statue position, he turned toward the young knight stiffly. "Because of your incompetence, I was unable to protect Catherine. You are so selfish I doubt the fact she miscarried matters to you in the least. Your apologies are meaningless."

"I had no idea she was carrying a child! Nevertheless, you cannot expect one lowly knight to sacrifice himself-"

A cold sneer wavered over Joachim's lips. "I expect honor – which obligates you to serve your lord. You did not serve me, and you should feel grateful I have decided to spare you. If I were like my father, you would be drawn and quartered by now."

Maurizio's eyes glimmered anxiously, as though appearing summon enough courage to respond. The lord had trapped him where there was no escape and no excuse. It was probably a miracle alone that caused him to come up with one. "I was serving you. Why do you think I came to warn you they were coming? Why do you think I summoned Lord Walter for aide? It is not my nature to leave a friend in harm's way."

Joachim wanted to believe what he was hearing. It was true that his knight came to tell him of the news but it must have been obvious by his haggard appearance that he had not slept through the night in months. He had taken after his father for being rather observant, and in such distressing times it was clear he refused to rest amidst threats of an uprising. A flicker of distrust seeped through his pale blue eyes, whilst his thin frame stepped toward the knight. The look of incorruptibility Maurizio wore was enough to make him maintain his incredulous glare. "You want me to overlook what you did because of that?"

The knight's head nodded, and then lowered so the chestnut color of his eyes was hidden by the shadows. "I want you to forgive me – if not that – then allow me to keep my title. It is all I have, and without it I am nothing."

"You are nothing with your title. You are not even worthy of being a knight. Forgiveness is meaningless, now." Joachim's throat released another unemotional chuckle. In darkened room the sound was so ominous Maurizio took another step back. "What's the matter?" The young lord challenged, his pale form radiating with the sad beauty of a fallen angel. "Are you afraid…I might change my mind about sparing you? Don't be, because I have other plans to make you of use to me."

Maurizio made a deep bow, his dark brown hair falling against his smooth, handsome face. "I will do anything you ask."

Joachim's scowling lips twisted into a mocking smirk. "You will do anything I _tell_ you. A lord never asks to be served." Satisfied by the knight's returned silence, he moved so close to Maurizio that he could feel fear emanating off every inch of the man's body. The knight made no attempt to hide behind a brave mask, for the dangerous look of hate consuming Joachim was unpredictable. Not even Joachim himself knew what grief and rage made him capable of, except the single goal he brooded over throughout the lonely passing hours. It was almost unspeakable how it pleased him when he instructed. "Go into the village. I want you to find the three men who lashed Catherine and bring them to me."

Maurizio's bright brown eyes did not dare clash against the cold glare of the lord. The words lingered like hot breath escaping into the air on a crisp winter's eve, so that it clouded the knight of a will to stir. "As you wish, milord. Is it your will for me to arrest them?"

Joachim stepped closer again so the gap between them narrowed. "Yes."

After watching his lord's movements, Maurizio's throat swallowed hard, and his voice shook like a leaf battered by a storm. "On what charge shall I arrest them?" He asked.

For a moment, the lord paused, allowing his silence to make the knight uneasy. The idea of voicing his thoughts aloud was out of the question. He remembered the uncaring but hushed way in which his knight had retreated, and it was a decisive moment he would not soon forget. If Maurizio failed to follow through with his order there would not be another opportunity to be redeemed. It had not come to pass yet, which prompted his unblinking eyes to pierce through the man's nervous exterior.

Joachim's reply shattered the silence like it was made of glass. "Murder."

The knight's eyes widened, the thin line of his mouth falling agape to his response. "The creature was stillborn! You cannot blame its death upon them, no matter how great your sorrow, since they did not actually kill it-"

The lord's reflex upon hearing the words was quicker than a bolt of lightning. In a matter of seconds he backhanded the knight across the face, defying the illusion that he was too frail to deal a harsh blow if it was necessary. "Shut up!" Joachim hissed, watching the knight stagger back with a hardened gaze. "I am the lord of this district and I may administer laws according to my whim. Their crime will not go unpunished. Defying a lord alone is punishable, regardless."

"How do you plan to have them punished?" Maurizio's wild eyes stared at him with the starkest image of dread.

Never before had Joachim's once fragile body emanated any form of terror, however within the darkened room the young lord seemed almost inhuman. Hollowed eyes never ceased to glare down at the knight, accompanied by a face expressing nothing but visible disgust. Joachim pointed his index finger at the knight, amused by the fact that Maurizio jumped back as if it was a threat to strike him. His voice died to a low whisper. "The punishment for murder is death. Have the serfs build a scaffold in front of the manor steps. I want a lesson to be taught to any who dare to challenge me."

"Yes, milord." The knight backed away so far he was nearly out of the room, like a dog retreating from its master's wrath. "I will see to it they are arrested immediately." Maurizio continued to back away into the safety of the surrounding shadows, however the lord's cold eyes were ever watchful, so the frigid blue irises stabbed daggers that could have immobilized the man if he so much as tried to turn around. Joachim pressed his hands together in the form of a prayer and held them in front of his lips. Locks of pearly white fell against his contoured cheekbones, his stance straightening with his head held high, so that his glaring eyes could look down upon the man as if he were nothing but an insect to be crushed. In the darkness his slender figure radiated a terrifying beauty, though it was a strong contrast to his icy threat.

"You must not fail me. Otherwise it shall be you who greets the scaffold at dawn."

* * *

_Can thou not see my pain?_

_Hath this world left me to cry?_

_Burdened by my sinful stains_

_A soul with no wish except to die_

_Where art thou my dear child?_

_Departed beyond heaven's gate_

_As my soul lingers in a life defiled_

_Knowing I am who God should hate_

The dawn was just an hour away before another subtle knock sounded against the door. Unsurprisingly, the lord remained seated in front of the windowpane with his head resting in his hand. It was too early for Maurizio to come calling and he was in no mood to deal with the servants. Regardless, the door slowly opened and the armored form of Walter stepped calmly inside the room. The other lord's pale skin gleamed in the darkness but the pair of deep starlit eyes unnerved Joachim's thinning patience.

"What do you want?" Joachim looked away from the window and stared at Walter's stagnant expression. A dim flicker of annoyance flashed across his face until his ears caught the sound of the man's voice.

Walter's glittering eyes lowered when they made a brief contact against the young man's. "Your wounds are deep." The red-haired lord's voice became quiet from the evident lack of response. It did not appear to cause an ounce of surprise to waver Walter's calm disposition. "I do not know the pain of losing a child, but I do know the pain of having to live after losing what one holds dear. Indeed, your anger is understandable."

Joachim's stern expression wore a fleeting look of curiosity, before the reaction was overcome by a defensive scowl. "I have no time to concern myself with you. Is there a reason why you must torment me at this hour?"

"Forgive me, for I did not think this was a form of torment." Walter took the insult gracefully, as though already anticipating it. "I thought it would be considerate for me to pay my respects. There is truly nothing that exceeds grief."

"No…I do not imagine there is…" Unnerved by the other lord's perceptive stare, Joachim avoided eye contact and turned his head toward the window. Despite his obvious lack of interest, he noticed from the corner of one eye, Walter looking beyond him at the fading nightscape. The other lord seemed almost pressed to continue the conversation, keeping both of his starlit eyes upon the youth and drawing Joachim's gaze upon the man's pasty visage.

The young nobleman refused to admit that the red-haired lord's calm voice was somewhat soothing. "When the villagers learn what has happened, they will be less likely to attempt another uprising."

A low sigh parted through Joachim's lips, and for a brief second, his eyes unveiled the profound sadness plaguing his heart. "Perhaps. Peace came at the cost of my unborn child. I doubt it will last. Not only that, but my child died before it could be baptized…"

"I see." Walter placed a hand over his chin, tapping his gauntlets against the smooth flesh that appeared as white as milk in the moonlight. The lord's deep red armor gleamed like the dying embers of fire, and soft locks of red hair coiled against his face and broad shoulder blades. Walter carried a more imposing presence, one that demanded the attention of all who dared to look upon him. It was no surprise since he practically towered over Joachim, making the pale and sickly lord look like nothing but a ghostly apparition. Yet, Walter's normally smirking face was gentle, and one of his hands rested upon Joachim's shoulder.

The gauntlet-covered fingers trailed up the youth's supple neck and gently stroked the fine flesh covering his throat. Joachim could not help but feel lulled by the man's touch. In a bold move, Walter leaned around him and pressed his face against the lord's ivory hair, his eyes fluttering closed, as though picturing the young man's sadness in his mind. His voice was as soft as a summer breeze and so quiet that Joachim could feel his breath tickling his ear. "Never mind the church. They know nothing of your sorrow."

"Of course, you think you are the only one who does?" The young man tried to turn and see Walter's face for himself, however he stilled from feeling the man's hand slide beneath his chin and lift his head to expose the smooth curve of his neck. He allowed his lashes to flutter closed when he caught a single glimpse of the man's dark eyes studying his face.

Joachim tried not to stir when Walter's gauntlet-covered fingers ran through the strands of his hair, touching the white tresses that were finer than silk. "I have been on this earth long enough to know the meaning of grief." A modest but pained smile crept across the corners of his lips, whilst the coils of his side-parted locks curtained his left eye behind a veil of red. "You need not grieve alone. Your life is too young to be spent brooding. You are like a God whose sorrow washes the world away with his tears. If I may add, your beauty is greater than any God, and one with your grace should not be wasted."

"I do not understand what you mean by…wasted?" The spell the man had cast upon him broke during that moment it. The young man pulled away from the lord's touch as if it burned his flesh raw, his cynical expression failing to hide the apprehension whirling deep within his soul. It was feeling he could not outright explain but something inside him warned him not to fall into the attractive trap of comradeship with that man. "The way you speak to me…I find it…inappropriate." Joachim's lips quivered, whilst his body shrank away from Walter's touch until he pressed his back against the windowpane. "I don't know who you are. I don't know why you are here, or why you are specifically interested in me …but I must ask you…to never visit Creightel or my manor again."

It took a moment for Walter to react, but after appearing to take in his response, he drew away, his lips pursed in thought. The hands that caressed Joachim's flesh and hair slowly lifted, leaving the young man's decrepit figure huddled near the cold glass. After an uneasy silence, Walter's dark eyes glinted. "As you wish. It does not surprise me, for one who carries your kind of grief prefers seclusion. Perhaps I appeared in your life to hastily, considering that murder is a substantial burden for a young lord to bear." The smile Walter wore faded, as his eyes drifted to the streak of light beginning to appear over the distant horizon.

With one light swish of his cape, his armored frame retreated into the shadows of the room. Nevertheless, the man's pale skin and glinting crimson armor made him visible within the darkness. Joachim's body quivered from noticing half of Walter's face was cast in shadow, whilst the half he could see stared at him with a strange power to pierce into the dread he tried to hide. The silence allowed him to hear the other lord's quiet sigh, as well as the barely audible whisper that somehow echoed through the room. "Lord Zaeviean was protective of his wife. I imagine that although he seemed cruel, he never let you out of his sight. Do you ever wonder what he was protecting you from?"

Joachim felt a lump develop in his throat but forced himself to answer. Each word he spoke seemed to make the other lord more satisfied. "My father rarely spoke to me. All I was to him was an heir. Not a son."

The smile returned to Walter's lips but it was not a smile Joachim found particularly comforting. The other lord seemed to emit a low chuckle to himself, his dark eyes blinking in the shadows until Joachim's body stiffened from seeing what he could have sworn was a dull twinkle of red appear within them. "Your father kept you alive this long. Tis' a pity he met his end so soon. I suppose it means you are no longer under his watchful gaze." The moment Joachim pressed his back hard against the cold windowpane in alarm, Walter's sweeping frame moved with stealth-like steps toward the doorway. It was almost as if the man controlled the shadows themselves, holding the ability to move and hide within them on a whim, or reveal himself whenever the occasion called for it. The timing of his arrival seemed too coincidental but the thought barely crossed the mind of the young nobleman, who watched the other lord pause and turn to glimpse at him once more. Joachim's fragile and pale appearance had always been one of his most noticeable characteristics. He could not help regretting that fact when Walter added under his breath. "Not everyone is meant to die…they simply disappear into the darkness as I now must. I believe you and I will meet again very soon."

* * *

The first of the sun's golden light peaked over the distant horizon, defeating the grasp darkness secured over the land. The light was warm and welcoming; however it did not awaken the young lord who stepped outside to take in the dawn. Joachim's eyes were alert, though filled with sorrow and exhaustion. One could not overlook the outlines of fatigue etched against the flesh his delicate lashes touched. He was so tired he almost stumbled down the steps but he regained his senses quickly, inexplicably drawn by the looming scaffold in front of the manor. The wooden structure had a crude design to it, for it had been constructed quickly. When Joachim's gaze locked on the ropes tied to its overhanging beam on the platform, a faint grimace of rage shadowed his face.

Maurizio tromped up the path with the accused in tow – precisely on time. The knight's sword was drawn and clutched by a tense hand, whilst the man's eyes darted to the somber lord. All three villagers walked in a line in front of the knight, with their hands and feet shackled so the clinking sounds of chains filled the silence of the early morning. Not a single lark or warbler dared to ease the tension by singing, for it seemed the entire world had fallen to a standstill, or perhaps cowered under the grim stare of the white-haired lord. There was no joy within his eyes, no sense of emotion - only pain.

Upon arriving, Maurizio promptly lined the men up in front of him and stepped back so Joachim could survey the culprits. "Milord, I have brought the accused before you. Do as you will with them." A nervous glint appeared in the man's eyes when he gestured to the three villagers before hitting each of their legs to knock them down onto their knees. Immediately, the men cried out and attempted to stumble to their feet, however Maurizio's sword gleamed under the dim light of the sun, and once again cast them into a restrained silence. The opportunity prompted Joachim to raise his head and hold it high, so that the sneer spreading across his taut lips was as visible as his rage. It seemed to satisfy him when he allowed the silence to drag on for a lengthy time, until the sounds of his metal soles struck the earth, and his slender form began to pace back and forth in front of them. Each step echoed through the air as if the sounds alone would swallow them up, if not the sinister glare his eyes cast upon them every time he looked over his shoulder at their faces.

Finally, he turned his back and looked over his shoulder again, his voice as icy as a winter breeze. "Do you know why you have been brought before me?" He heard the men shift in place, and turned upon hearing what appeared to be the youngest of the three reply. The youth looked no older than Joachim himself, yet his dark eyes failed to meet the glaring lord for an instant. Every part of the shackled peasant trembled from head to toe so visibly his chains rattled.

"I know not, milord." The young man paused, seeming to shrink back from witnessing the unchanging aura of coldness upon Joachim's ashen countenance. "We committed no crime. It is you who have committed crimes against us, for you are nothing more than a monster-"

"How Pathetic." A mocking glint reflected through the lord's eyes following the emotionless laugh that escaped his lips. Every part of him emanated a contrasting feeling of despise. "You think t'was I who killed my own people? Ignorant fool that you are, I am not surprised you would believe in fictitious creatures. Nevertheless, you are here on the charge of murder. What say you to that?"

"Murder! What murder do you speak of? We have not murdered anyone!" The oldest looking man of the three was quick to interject. He had a heavyset face and build, appearing to be a man who worked in the fields, for his muscles were strong and his skin browned by many hours spent in the sun.

Joachim's unwavering sneer never faltered for an instant. The young lord turned toward the man and stooped over him, the fine corners of his lips twitching impatiently. One of his delicate hands clenched into a fist, and in barely a whisper, his voice cut through the air like a dagger through flesh. None of them would understand his torment, nor the eternal stain of grief concealed inside his belligerent soul. Their ill-bred response to his grief succeeded in ripping open the festering wound within his heart. "I do not wish to hear your incessant falsehoods!" he hissed through gritted enamels. Two of the men except the one he addressed immediately tried to retreat from his rage by keeping their eyes averted. The look of imprudence Joachim noticed within the oldest of the trio drove him into a state of hatred in which he could find no absolution. As if a great force had ripped his vocals, his voice screamed the accusation in their faces. "That woman you scoundrels cruelly beat was carrying my child. My flesh and blood grew in her womb. Not even God will save your wretched souls, for I intend to hang each and every one of you until the air is strangled from your lungs."

"How can you hang us for killing something that never lived?" Defiance consumed the face of the man who dared to challenge the accusation, as if the prospect of death brought no fear within his soul. Instead of cowering from a voice that should have made his blood congeal, he stared the lord in the eyes as if they were equals. Although socially the idea was impossible, death faced every man on earth regardless of his status, and no man could escape it forever. It was a thought that plagued humankind, and Joachim could not deny the man's bravery – or perhaps lack of common sense – for trying to win against one of his immense antipathy. It was a pursuit he knew would be denied before it could be heard.

"Your subjects are dying, and nothing has been done to ease our own sorrows! We have families as well, and we shall not stand by and allow them to be slaughtered by you!" The man's voice was audible and calm, for a moment drawing Joachim's chaotic thoughts together, however just as swiftly the poison of spite sank its fangs into the young man's fragile sense of judgment. Without warning, his voice was swift to condemn as it was at attempting to be convincing. "What would you know of our pain, you being a useless lord who has done nothing for us? Have you gone from murdering to raping now? I imagine you could always make another unholy creature grow in her womb-"

"Shut up!" Such words struck one of the deepest nerves in his body, causing his heart to suddenly pound against his ribcage as he sent the steel-clad soles of his left boot against the peasant's face. A bloodied cry of anguish echoed when the hard steel collided into the flesh and sent spurts of blood sprinkling into the air. Joachim lunged forward and seized the man by the front of his shirt, yanking him so hard that the man's blood-covered face jerked forward until their eyes were mere inches apart. For all the time they talked he did not know the man's name, and it mattered little to him concerning the fact he grasped the handle of the dagger he kept beneath his robe. Normally he would have reached for his sword, but his hours of mourning gave him no time to think about having the servants bring it to him.

Joachim's other hand grasped the man's cheeks and pried the peasant's mouth open, his voice trembling with rage. "How dare you insult me! You're tongue is so foul I may as well rip it out of your mouth!"By then his grip was so tight he had a will to crush the man's skull in his bare hands, yet the gleaming blade of his dagger parted back his maw until with a single motion, he sliced the tongue in half. "Have you anything else to say?" Joachim's voice screamed in his ear amidst the peasant's tortured shouts. Blood quickly gurgled the man's cries, as the red liquid dripped down the corners of his lips and seeped into the ground. Without waiting for an answer, Joachim made a huff of disgust before his boot collided against the peasant's ribcage. The frail lord had succeeded in knocking the well-built man onto the ground. "If you think I am a monster," he whispered. "You do not know what true monsters are…" Joachim walked around the fallen man, his eyes glaring upon the sight of blood and the tormented screams of anguish he had created. "What good is a tongue to a dead man anyway? The pain you feel now is nothing compared to my own! What say you to that-"

Before he could finish his sentence, the man's lips pursed, and then spat a clot of blood onto the top of his boot. Joachim watched the crimson liquid drip onto the ground. Without even batting an eyelid, he pulled the peasant's writhing body forward. "So, it seems you do not wish to listen to me." A cruel smile played across his lips as he pressed the bloody dagger against the man's whiskered cheek. "I suppose if you cannot listen, you won't have use for ears." A low chuckle reverberated through his throat as he brought the dagger to the man's ear. He took his time slicing it off, while his pale eyes watched the torrents of blood spatter over the ground and slide between his fingers. It was warm and thick, its smell suffocating and foul, but he did not relent until he sliced the dagger completely through. "How about the other ear?" Joachim chided amidst the man's horrific screams. "What good are ears to a dead man, unless to hear the sound of your neck breaking? I know I do, so perhaps I will let you keep the other one, and give you this one as a souvenir. Shall I have your family place it in your pocket when they cart you away in a wooden box?"

The only response he received was an anguished scream, yet the young man's eyes stared as if he was entirely deaf to the cries of human suffering, for his own internal screams suffocated everything else, as if a part of his soul was drowning. Perhaps that was why he always felt so lost, for the waves of sorrow sought to drag him beneath its murky surface, wherein there would be no escape or redemption. Like a man fighting to catch his last breath, so too was his soul fighting against his inner darkness.

Joachim let go of the man and let him drop like lead onto the ground. He could feel trickles of blood squish between his fingers, whilst his eyes glanced down at the sight of crimson liquid dripping from his clenched hands like droplets of rain. When he looked at Maurizio, the knight wore a mask of horror across his features, but it failed to reach the depths of his pounding heart. Amidst the continuing sounds of his prisoner's weeping, he kicked the man over onto his belly, before inflicting several harsh blows against the peasant's ribcage with his ironclad boots. Joachim's pale eyes narrowed, and the corner of his lip twitched with each sound of flesh tearing.

_What shall you do now, God? Destroy me? Do it then, for I care nothing of what happens to me now._

Joachim kicked him so hard he felt one of the man's ribs snap, which made him remember the sharp snapping noise the whip made when it was brought down upon Catherine's body. A loud sob returned his demand, yet his brow furrowed in disgust, and he made a scornful snarl under his breath. "That's not good enough! If hanging makes you fearful, that is nothing if I wish to have you tortured. I am certain I could find an iron cage somewhere and leave you to burn alive over a scalding pot. Not even hell's fire could match what I would enjoy making you endure-"

"Stop it, Joachim!" A single voice broke the surrounding silence, summoning him back to his rational mind, but he did not relent until Catherine flung her arms around him. He heard her sobbing against his shoulder as her hands covered the tense muscles in his arms, whilst her gentle words filled his raging thoughts. "I have seen enough death! Please, let them go…let them go Joachim…for I do not wish to see more pain wrought within you. Killing them will not ease your grief..." She rested her head upon his arm and drew him into a sullen silence. He turned and looked upon her tear-streaked face, noting the once vibrant glitter in her emerald eyes had been reduced to a mere shell of its former self. For though she tried to conceal it from him, he could sense a forlorn emotion of emptiness within her, as if a part of her own fragile soul had diminished. It pained him so greatly his throat tightened, but he had not the heart to push her broken spirit from this embrace, which she quickly sought out until he wrapped his arms around her and pressed her against his chest.

Joachim's gorgeous lashes fluttered closed, and he kissed the thick locks of her raven hair with his lips. Catherine stirred in his embrace after a deep sigh befell his aching chest, and the sound of his trembling voice whispered. Nevertheless, though he addressed her in the calmest way he could muster, a stark coldness played upon the edge of his somber tone. "You would have them live knowing what they did to you? I wish I were so forgiving. No one except you showed me any pity. Perchance if I were not a wicked monster like my father, I would spare the lives of these wretches, yet the son of a coldhearted creature is doomed to become one himself."

"But you are not a cruel man like him! You are a loving man who is capable of so much more than this!" Catherine clung to him tighter, refusing to leave his embrace even when his distant nature displayed an unsettled air of rejection within his eyes. "How could you do something so despicable? Nothing will come of this except despair! Can you not see I love you, and I want you to be happy more than anything in the world – even more than my own happiness? Please…come inside and rest."

"Regretfully, I must decline your request, for I am not tired – I cannot sleep knowing these men still breathe whilst my child is buried. I simply cannot." She winced from watching him pull away from her wanted touch. Joachim's eyes opened to look at the sun growing higher over the horizon, a contrary scene to the sinking feeling he contained within himself, yet could no longer prevent from flickering across his ashen visage. Tired eyes looked down at her tearful expression, but without trying to gather strength to overcome his mounting impatience. He turned his back to her, as well as the sunlight, and cast his sullen gaze upon the scaffold. "You cannot tell me how to rule my subjects. What is right and what is wrong is not your concern." The cold words made the woman's mouth gape, following the quiet choke of hurt that escaped her throat to find his gaze did not dare trace the sheer image of distress within her eyes. The young lord kept staring ahead to avoid any measure of doubt from crossing his mind. In the light of the dawn, his pasty white skin and haggard appearance did not hide the increasing frailty of his weakened body, or the implication of his impending fate. If he continued to abuse his already tiring frame, he was almost certain his life expectancy would be cut down to mere weeks or days. He prepared himself to await the pale horse with the pale rider, the bringer of death and the liberator of souls from the entrapment of flesh and bone. He sighed, muttering under his breath so only her ears could hear. "I am dying. You do not understand what it feels like to know your life is slipping away. If there is a God, I expect God will deal with me when that time comes…soon. Until then, I am free to do whatever I wish on this earth."

Catherine's eyes blinked away the tears with her frantic reply. "Why not let God punish them? What gives you the right to condemn them? If you think your life is fading away, why waste what is left on sorrow and agony?"

Joachim walked toward the scaffold, stiffly regarding the crude structure whilst Maurizio began to herd the three men toward it. Not a single one of the men spoke. His lips quivered for a moment until he was certain he regained his composure long enough to provide her an answer. "My right to condemn is granted to me by my title. I have proof of their crime because I witnessed it myself. You should know the precious thing they took from this world. Why should I trust in a God who would condemn our own child?"

She shook her head in dismay, trying to reach out to him but he almost knocked her back with the wave of his arm, quickening his steps so as she followed her equally fatigued body could not find the strength to meet his pace. "How can you be so selfish?" Her accusing eyes glared against his backside. "Has hatred made you blind to the fact I lost something dear to me as well? My suffering is no less than your own, yet you scorn me for not succumbing to madness-"

"Be silent!" He whirled in place, his cold blue eyes stabbing against her with a kind of unexpected will to incinerate her where she stood. The lady skidded to a sudden halt and closed her lips together at the sight of his trembling frame, which resembled a hollowed tree battered by a relentless storm and left to fear the breath of the wind capable of tearing its roots from the earth. The young man's lips quivered, but not a single tear filled his hardened optics whilst he glowered at her bewildered disposition. In that brief moment, his throat vibrated the dreadful thoughts coursing through his mind, at last making his resentment known. "The burden of that child's ill fate falls upon my shoulders, and I do not need you impeding my judgment!"

"If you think I am the cause for your madness, then I now know you care nothing about those whom you destroy!" Catherine's bright emerald eyes seemed ignited by a kind of agony he had never witness within her beautiful features before. "I did not want you that night for selfish reasons. I gave up my most precious possession – my body – to you alone. Perchance none of this matters to you though, since hatred seems to have married you instead of I." Her face had paled almost as much as his own. Without another word, she turned her back upon the sight. His elegant lashes fluttered closed to ponder over which was most likely. Nevertheless, when he opened them again and cast his hardened gaze upon the three peasants standing on the scaffold, with each of their necks secured by a rope fashioned from his own hatred, the only response he gave was a lukewarm nod.

It took not a second for him to wince at the sound of the wooden shutters being released; whilst his eyes watched their bodies descend downward, noting in his twisted thoughts how each of them resembled demons being cast down into hell. Then, as if God himself sought to save them, their decent was halted by the sudden strain of the rope that sealed their fate. Their flailing legs kicked in search of freedom like flies caught in a spiders web, unable to escape the terrible choking grip the robe bound around their vulnerable throats. Their feet dangled just inches off the ground below them, forever out of reach, and forever unable to rescue them as the air was slowly drained from their lungs. It surprised him how not a one suffered a broken neck that would have ended their ordeal before their deaths were prolonged, however the darkest part of his heart wished them all the suffering that could be made imaginable, and his eyes did not blink for a second, almost transfixed by the sight of their writhing forms silhouetted by the warm glow of the rising sun. Joachim kept his composure, for his face told no tale of remorse or horror to account for what he witnessed. It seemed he resembled a spectator who noticed nothing out of the ordinary, like a hawk content upon its perch, its razor-sharp talons fixed upon the inevitable struggles of prey strung in front of its vigilant gaze.

After what was only minutes, and felt like hours to the observing lord, the struggles of each man faded into indiscriminate twitches. Even to their last breaths, their bodies struggled like birds snared by lime, unable to escape the object that ensured their demise was immanent. Nonetheless, when they were finally released from agony, all that remained were lifeless forms swaying back and forth under the mercy of the wind's lament. It was an image so vivid and morbid the young nobleman fell silent, yet his dreary thoughts still tried to drown him in the reality of his situation.

_What have I become? I have confirmed all that my subjects accuse me of – I am nothing more than a vile monster. Nothing exists within me, and nothing can exist through me. My family line will fail…and so will my life._


	13. Chapter 13: The Fall

**Author's Note: **Okay guys, this is the chapter you've all been waiting for. This is NOT the end of the story, however. My story follows the LoI timeline so there will be tons more after this about Joachim (heh...this is supposed to be a novel, after all!). Stay tuned... (*ahem* there will also be more WalterXJoachim). This chapter was somewhat challenging to write since it is such a crucial part of Joachim's tragic fate. I hope you will find this believable and satisfying.

Special Thanks:

As always, thanks everyone for reading this story (whether you review or not). Without people to read it, all my hard work would be for naught. :) Reviews are always appreciated, of course. :) I hope more people will start reading this story.

**TheGhostIsReal: **Thank you for taking the time to continue reviewing. I put a lot of hard work into this story and I hope you will continue to enjoy it. This chapter was especially challenging (due to the complexity of the emotions involved) and I hope you like it. :)

**LateNiteSlacker: **Thank you for taking the time to review my story :D I am glad you liked the last chapter and found it in-character for Joachim. I have to admit, this story will get a bit violent even later on (as Joachim succumbs to vampirism). I am trying to keep the quality of my chapters consistent and I hope you will continue reading. I look forward to hearing from you again :)

**Rahar Moonfire:** haha okay, HERE is the update you wanted and begged for! I hope it satisfies you and that you aren't getting bored of the story. I knew readers were waiting for this chapter and had written for it to happen now, anyway...argh...sometimes even I feel sorry for Joachim :( More is yet to come, though. Thank you for always reviewing and following this story. You (as well as my other readers) are a source of inspiration for me to keep updating it. P.S. I hope you will update A Flickering Candle in the Darkness soon... :P

**AzariyaBelmont:** :D Thank you for reviewing my story! I am starting to like Walter Bernhard more and more, though I have to say, he is quite merciless in this chapter. Walter makes a great villain/anti-hero. I loved his voice actor in the game and everytime I write it's easy for me to imagine what he will say/do. There will be plenty of WalterXJoachim in future chapters so if you like the action thus far, get ready for more. ;)

**Chapter XIII**

Throughout the day, a haze of dark gray clouds again covered the sun's golden light, and the barren land was enveloped in a sullen silence that stirred the soul of every villager who looked upon the three corpses dangling in the wind. The orders from the young lord were simple: the bodies would serve as a warning to anyone who dared to oppose him again. Throughout the day many villagers came to the scene, and many more wept from hearing the knight left to guard them inform that they were to remain there until the lord wished them to be removed. Joachim had again locked himself inside his chamber for the remainder of the day. Although he tried to find solace, he was interrupted several times by his servants informing him that Catherine's father demanded to speak with him.

_No doubt he has found out about Catherine's miscarriage, and seeks out the one who had her virginity. He must think me a bastard to have accepted her offering, knowing it was the forbidden fruit not meant for me to spoil. Alas...if only he had succeeded in protecting her innocence from me…how it must disgust him to imagine one so pale as I lying with his daughter!_

Joachim turned away from the windowpane as he watched Catherine's father storm down the steps of the manor, evidently infuriated by his servant's message that he desired no communication with anyone. Catherine was still in his manor somewhere, and must have refused to go with her father on the account of the fact the burial was near. How else could its existence be explained, when it was clear he was the one who requested the submission of Catherine's chastity, and had desired it since he reached the age in which a young man began to seek out what could bring him pleasure? Such a notion made him remember Walter's ominous warning.

_If you bed with her…your blood will become hers_

Joachim wrung his hands, his pallid complexion so white he was on the verge of collapsing. From where he sat in front of his chamber's window, he could still see the three lifeless bodies swaying, and his hands flew to his face to rescue his aching eyes from the abominable sight. Was it possible Walter knew? For some reason the idea did not leave the back of his mind as he resigned to prepare for the troubles ahead. If his father had been alive to see the misbegotten child, as well as the disgust the church would hold against the Armster clan's last heir, there was not an ounce of doubt to prevent him from assuming his father would have sooner let him die than see him live to destroy their name.

He remembered that thought as he placed the infant in her tiny wooden coffin, and set off upon his horse toward the fields. Death had greeted him that morning, and death again greeted him that evening as the sun's light disappeared behind the dark gray clouds suspended in the sky. The air had taken on a sharper chill, and the night was again driving the sun back, so that darkness encompassed him. Cojiro galloped up the hill and ground to a halt beneath the solitary tree. The tree's branches were bare and reached upward into the dark sky like a dozen clawing arms trying to break through the veil of clouds in hopes of finding heaven. With a heavy heart laden with grief, he dismounted and carried the object toward the trunk of the tree, where a small plot of earth had been dug up by one of his servants earlier that day, and a modest sized rock to be used as a makeshift tombstone had been placed. Joachim peered into the hole resentfully, his smooth features warped in pain while his hands clutched the precious box against his chest. He glanced round him at the empty field surrounding the lone tree, and gazed at the foot of the hill to the distance where the neat arrangements of houses that made up his village appeared warmed by the billows of smoke escaping through the openings of thatched rooftops.

He gazed upward to the sky above, feeling the chill of the night begin to numb his fingers and legs. The young man stood so still the tingling sensation of frost barely disturbed him, for his gentle eyes gazed only at the tiny coffin he held in his arms, as strands of silky shoulder-length hair covered the sides of his face behind a curtain of white. A part of him could not bear to place the object he held inside such a cold and dark looking hole, though he knew if he did not his child would never find peace. There would be no priest to bless it or to say a single prayer of consolation. Not to his surprise, he was the only one who attended the burial. No one wanted to watch him bury the creation of an illicit union. Though Catherine would arrive within moments, tears brimmed in his eyes, his chest heaving as he stood there, alone, with only the lonely moon for company. Even then, dark clouds threatened to veil its pure, white light.

After a long silence, his eyes traced the delicate contours of Catherine's lithesome form standing next to him in the darkness. She approached in such a manner that she did not disturb him, though her once glittering eyes were dull. Although her skin was slightly tanned, not even her natural color could liven to her distraught appearance. Joachim shivered under the crisp chill of the night, watching puffs of his breath escape into the air while his ears listened to the sound of a bell tolling somberly in the distance.

"I asked father Genesio to pardon me for my sins." Catherine's words were so soft they were hardly a whisper. "I told him you did not mean what you said, and though he refused to attend, he agreed to toll a church bell for us."

"Why did you say that?" Joachim muttered sharply under his breath, his lips already made numb by the crisp night air as his steely blue eyes studied her. "I meant every word of it -"

"There is nothing we can do." Catherine replied, however one of her hands attempted to clean away the tears in her eyes, and her voice strained. "Let it rest, Joachim. Please…"

The lord stood without replying, and instead allowed her to take the tiny coffin from his hands. To find he held nothing gave him a strong sense of emptiness, but his despondent gaze continued to watch her walk forward until she kneeled next to the open plot and set the coffin carefully inside. "Farewell." She did not hear the words leave his throat, for one of her hands made the silent motion sign of the cross, before her fingers gripped the hardened soil and scooped it into the hole. Joachim observed the process without the heart to turn away, his soul consigned to endure the burial with as much dignity as he could muster, and his ears found no comfort when he heard her speak a gypsy prayer he could not understand. Catherine's lips seemed to barely move, and her words were no less grave than her expression. Perhaps she found comfort in her prayer, but she made no indication of revealing the mournful thoughts hidden in her mind. "_Yov sasti Mari, pherdi dey, Devel tusa, Punidi tu mashkir jul'ende I punido tire and'ako phel - Isos. San Mari, Isoseskiri day, Mang Devles vash amenge papanenge, Akana i ade amare meripaskiri hor. Ad'a teyavel**.**_" Her hand again motioned the sign of the cross, and with her labor finished and a last glance cast upon the place where the infant had been tucked beneath the soil, she hung her head. She looked as though she would linger in front of the grave all night, already characterizing a mother's grief.

"Leave me." He whispered, using all of his remaining strength to put his thoughts into words. "Go home. If you want to help me, leave me. It is better that way."

"How is it better?" Catherine blinked at him in shadows, but he fled her hold with an almost forceful intent that left her standing like a lost doe. Whenever he comforted her, he was just as swift to bring her more pain when he could not bear to face her. At first she tried to step toward him, but his back was to her, and he did not turn around even when she added under her breath. "Must you always send me away? I want to understand your grief and endure it with you, and perhaps I do not wish to return to a village consumed with despair? My own and yours are enough to drown the heavens-"

"Then don't go back!" His hands quavered when he stood in front of the grave, his frail complexion so pale and empty that the cruelty in his voice stunner her. "Do whatever you want but leave me alone. I don't need you to remind me of my sins, nor do I desire your pity. I cannot be the man you want me to be, and I cannot give you the love you think I have. Believe me, there is nothing left of me for you to love." For the first time since he could remember, he heard not a word of objection, and all that surrounded him thereafter was endless silence. His head lowered, and when his eyes glanced about in search of her, he saw her graceful figure walking toward the forest in the distance.

The moon was partially visible behind the clouds, and illuminated her amethyst dress just enough that he noticed she walked with her hands folded in prayer, and her face hidden by her thick raven hair. As much as his heart begged him to go to her, he remained still until he caught white specks of snowflakes drifting from the black night sky. The light substance quickly filled the sky in a storm of white, but seconds after descending upon the earth the snow melted into the ground and disappeared. His unblinking eyes watched the snow land on soil, but to his dismay it too melted into nothing. With the last of his strength gone, he fell to his knees upon the earth and tilted his head upward to the sky. His lips parted as if to let out a wail loud enough for God to hear, but his throat emitted nothing except silence, and he covered his face with his hands and wept. The only sound he could make were his sobs, as his weakened body crumpled against the cold ground in a fit of tears.

The weeping youth tried to ignore what broke through all his feelings of woe, but the nudging was so persistent he lifted his head and looked over his shoulder, only to find Cojiro's muzzle pressed against his arm. The horse's head was lowered, its fine ears pricked forward, as its dark eyes gazed at its fallen master. Joachim struggled to swat the equine away with his hand, but no matter how hard he tried, the beast continued to nudge him till the young man forced himself to stand up. Seemingly satisfied by his compliance, the horse whickered gently, and remained still when its master's frail body fell against its muscled shoulder. Joachim pressed his face against his horse's fine silver coat, until his horse's reassuring nuzzles and his own frozen tears prompted him to complete his task. Once again he turned toward the grave and gathered the remnants of his composure. Even as he forced his feet to step forward, they felt burdened by an unseen force, and the dead gaze in his pale blue eyes unveiled nothing except the plainest form of solemn reverence. The damp snow felt hostile against his sensitive flesh. Though many lords would not mourn so greatly a product of human desire, Joachim continued to lament over the innocence that had passed away.

Tears threatened to fall from his eyes, but he wiped them away as he kneeled next to the stone and threw back the folds of his robe. Beneath, hooked to his waist next to the leather sheathe containing his sword, was his dagger. The young lord drew the weapon from his side and pressed it against the rock until the sharp tip of the blade ground into its solid surface. With a heavy sigh, he made a simple engraving and stared at what he had carved. It was crude, but nonetheless, leaving an empty grave marker would not have eased his conscience.

Kali Armster

Born & died January 18th 1094

Dearly departed, dearly loved

He stared at the marker until his entire body was numb with cold. Then, in a kind of rigid fashion, he began to walk away. It was during his solemn trudge through the darkness that his thoughts became clearer, and bitterness once again took hold of him, so that his attention soon turned upon the suspicious lord who had come calling upon his village. There was something odd about the way Walter only came at nightfall, and how the man had made a swift retreat after taking a brief glimpse at the lightening sky. Yet, the more his thoughts consumed him, the more he denied the notion of vampires. It was impossible.

He hoped that wherever he went he would find Catherine somehow, for it was a terribly dark and cold winter's eve, and he had seen not a sign of her since she wandered away. Whilst the thought echoed through his memory, his steps quickened, and his search became more frantic. "Catherine!" He tried to call out to her but there was only silence. The young man headed into the forest, following the pathway he thought she had taken. His selfishness consumed him to the point that, by the time he realized it, she had already disappeared without a trace. All around him, the tall trunks of the trees looked like the bars of a cage in which he was trapped, and could find no liberty from except to roam deeper and deeper into the forest. A thick fog settled over the road so that within moments the path disappeared within an illusion of silvery white. After several minutes, the despondent young man came to a halt in the middle of the path and listened to the silence around him. The pale shade of his flesh turned the color of ghostly white, and his thin hands trembled at the sudden realization that the fog was almost as unnatural as the silence itself. Somewhere in the trees his eyes glimpsed at the shadow of a tall figure watching him, but when he blinked there was not an animal or being in sight.

_Madness! There is no such thing as vampires! In a moment I am certain I will come to my senses and know all of this is just a result of my fatigue._

"What's the matter? If you are tired, you should not have wandered so far from the safety of your manor..."

A voice suddenly broke the tense silence, a voice so startling and smooth Joachim's eyes widened in recognition. The young man whirled in place, his face a mask of horror when he looked upon the sight of Walter emerging through the fog upon his horse. The figure was unmistakable - an elegant face framed by coiled locks of luscious red hair and majestic dark eyes. Virtually every aspect of the other lord was both striking and terrifying. While gazing down at the shocked young man, whose vulnerable form appeared white under the moonlight, Walter's lips made a deliberate smile. For the first time, Joachim glimpsed at his pearly white enamels - two of which protruded like the fangs of a wolf. Walter paused as he allowed his armored form to emerge through the fog. His voice was so deep that it seemed to make the air tremble.

Joachim's face twisted into a look of fear. The silence should have allowed him to hear Walter coming long before he was within sight. The other lord's movements were so stealthy, he could barely comprehend the fact that Walter had been watching him all along – and he had been none the wiser, distracted and vulnerable from his sorrow and fatigue. The horse gave loud reproachful snorts as its long mane swept around its eyes and bounced lightly against its neck. Joachim backed away when the equine came within a few meters from where he stood, his eyes widening as he looked up at Walter's stately form seated upon the restless creature. The other lord swung his leg over the saddle and jumped onto the ground with barely a sound to account for the heavy weight of his crimson armor.

"Walter! You despicable man, leave me alone! I want nothing to do with you." Joachim hissed, his breath escaping into the crisp air when his hand reached for the sword at his side. His hands trembled so much that he had to fumble to find it beneath his robes.

Walter licked his lips and stared at him, his dark eyes watching him meticulously. "I see. So, you think you have the power to defy me? How amusing."

Joachim clutched his blade so tightly that the hilt ground into his palm. The rage in his voice attempted to sting the red-haired lord like a thousand bees. "You ruined my life when you came to my village! I told you to never return, and yet here you stand! Either get out of my way, or else I will be forced to make you leave!"

"Interesting…" Walter remarked with the smirk still plastered across his lips. "You're over confident, but it is intriguing. I would find that rather noble, if you were not so foolish as to even attempt to fight me."

Joachim stared at Water's calm expression with the deepest of questions coursing through his mind. "You're the fool." He retorted. "I am a swordsman. You do not stand a chance against me. I suggest you discover my strength instead of pre-judging me."

A twinge of amusement made Walter smile at him with mock interest. "Very well, then. Go ahead and strike me, if you dare. I can assure you, your pitiful weapon will be ineffective."

A soft growl escaped through Joachim's lips, his eyes hardening in the darkness. He breathed heavily, his form straightening until he rushed forward with the sword and lunged to strike him down. Walter didn't even bat an eyelid when his blade smashed against his chest. A slight smile creased Joachim's lips at the sound of the sword hitting the cold metal, but it faded quickly when the blade broke in half like a toothpick. "What?" He yelled and stared at the broken sword as the sound of Walter's laughter filled the silence of the night.

"Just as I expected, you're a fool but confident nonetheless." The other lord mused, his eyes glinting in the darkness like diamonds. It was almost as if he had anticipated that the young man would try to attack him.

The attempt seemed even more foolish when Joachim looked up at the man's heavily armored frame. By comparison, he was nothing except weak and pale shadow of Walter's power. At that moment, a terrible chill ran through his spine at the thought that he stood no chance against him. "How did my sword break? This can't be! That sword was made with the strongest metal and iron! I didn't even scratch you!" His heart began to beat wildly in his chest when Walter proudly fanned his flowing black cape around his body like a gigantic bat. However, the man's elegance gave the impression that he was merely preening himself and preparing for what was to come. More than anything, the young man wished he would not find out.

"Your weapon cannot harm me. I could kill you now and feast upon your flesh…but…" A strange glint reflected in the man's eyes.

Joachim attempted to back away slowly when he stepped toward him. He held the broken blade in front of him, feebly trying to shield himself with it as his fine lips gasped."What are you? What kind of treachery is this?" His eyes widened into pale, glassy pools as he watched Walter chuckle again and reply in a dark whisper.

"Your blood would be far more satisfying to my thirst…to feel you struggle in my grasp…I will enjoy this all the more." The red-haired lord's heavily armored frame blocked the misty moon looming behind him, shadowing Joachim in darkness.

The pale youth stared at Walter as if his entire world had been turned upside down. He could not even blink as his gaze lingered upon the noticeable fangs protruding between his smooth lips. The breath in his lungs hitched when he realized Walter's flesh was no less pallid than the moon itself. A terrible realization made his body tremble, whilst his voice died to a whisper. "Are you...a vampire? Surely this cannot be!"

"Ah, so you finally understand, my frightened little lord. I thought one of your keen intellect would have detected me long beforehand, but alas, I suppose your skeptical nature proves damning after all. Do not be so defensive, for I have no desire to have you meet a premature end."A coy little smile spread across the corners of Walter's graceful lips. Like a dark God, he loomed over the pale young man, his form glowing under the moon's white light. As though trying to calm him, his voice softened slightly. "I have wanted you since the day you were born. Tis'...regretful I must taint you after you recently endured the death of your child. If you wish to have a reason to live, now, blood will soon be one."

Joachim did everything in his power to keep his thoughts composed, though this fear raged within his soul like the sea, its power threatening to make him lose control. He swallowed hard, avoiding the man's gaze whilst he replied. "No. I still have a life – Catherine. I do not wish to be damned as you are." Despite the firmness in his voice, Walter seemed unconvinced. The red-haired lord merely flicked his hair, the red coils splaying against the high collar of his armor in dismissal of the young man's rejection. His eyes glowed a crimson red that pierced the night like a demon's lantern. Joachim stared into the glowing irises that drew his gaze with a sort of hypnotic illusion, and staggered in place when he suddenly felt his body weaken. He experienced many bouts of tiredness but what he felt made his entire body immobile.

A slow smile pressed across Walter's smooth lips while his words echoed into the darkness surrounding them. "I am about to bestow a precious gift upon you…the gift of immortality. I have chosen you, Joachim, to live as I do. I realized that, in your frail condition, the possibility of you dying before I could turn you was too high a risk. You deserve more than to live as a bedridden, weak, and disgraced lord. You know as well as I that your indiscretion with that gypsy woman cost you dearly – all of your father's connections and investments will be lost once news of your scandal spreads. Human society is so very fickle in nature – those whom you call 'friends' are nothing more than leeches attempting to drain you of everything you possess. If you submit to me, you will be denied nothing – and those who mocked you shall soon fear you!"

Despite the sudden feeling of exhaustion, Joachim closed his eyes, his breaths becoming shallow in the wake of his escalading dread. With the grace of a fallen prince, he raised his head, unwilling to accept the vampire's attempt to persuade him. Walter's confidence made a wicked grin crease the corners of his lips, whilst his steely blue eyes came alight as though something about the situation was remarkably funny. The white-haired youth fell to his knees on the ground and tilted his head to look up at the other lord. For a moment, Walter's face revealed a hint of confusion, his dark eyes widening upon hearing the young man's audacious laughter. The young man's laugh emotionless, almost possessing a coldness that drained the beauty and nobility from his pallid visage. Joachim's entire body shook while his gaze stabbed the other lord with his hatred. "I cannot believe that I was so foolish as to think that for a moment, you truly cared about me, Walter. What chance does a pathetic thing like me stand against you? Oh, life is indeed cruel! There is no real love left in this world. Evidently, I should not have expected to find it within you."

For a moment, Walter merely watched the young man continue to laugh, the ostentatious sound echoing through the darkness. Then, suddenly regaining himself, Joachim got up from the ground as he continued. "I suppose the only thing left for me to do is flee. That is what you want, is it not? If it were not for Catherine's sake, perhaps I might let you have your way with me. If I have to live the rest of my life in misery, I will endure it for her sake. You forget that for so long I knew I was destined to die early in life, and as of late, I have realized that I truly _want _to die." Joachim raised his head and stared up into the darkened sky, relishing the moon's pale light cascading across his ashen face. A proud glint appeared in his eyes as he fought to subdue the temptation to give in. It would be easy to let the creature take him. However, he sensed that Walter wanted him to put up a fight – and he was more than happy to give him one. "I am not yours." he continued, a hint of arrogance seeping through his voice as he hissed. "As tempting as it is to become your puppet and your slave, I cannot accept."

"What a pity." Walter replied coolly, his eyes staring down at Joachim as though he had not entirely heard the young man's rebuff. Despite the lord's growing impatience, his expression softened whilst his voice fell quiet. "You injure me with your assumptions. The choice is no longer yours to make. I risked everything for you…" For a moment, he hesitated as if the admission pained him greatly, and his voice verged on trembling when he continued. "There is nothing in this world I would not give you, Joachim, if only you would understand…"

A silence passed between them. For a split second, the young man was tempted to fall into the entrapment of the other lord. He could feel the creature's loneliness as strongly as if it were his own, for there was something beautiful and sad in his words. Though he did not know Walter's tragedy, he could see it within the practiced elegance of his smile. If only he could ease the man's pain with his kiss – however, he knew Walter's bite would betray his compassion. It disgusted him to realize that the red-haired demon was even more desirable in their moment together, immersed in the pale shroud of the night fog, caught between life and death. Walter was capable of invoking fear, pleasure, and pain from him simultaneously. No one had ever made his heart pound the way Walter did. He despised himself for it but some part of him wanted the vampire to take him – and everything he was – completely, ruthlessly, possessively, and if it were possible, lovingly. A compassionate death could be his, though he knew that the demon's bite would not kill him but rather, preserve him forever.

Walter moved closer, and in response, Joachim moved back, his eyes widening further from the creature's persistence. "I said no." The young lord repeated, his lips quivering when the demon's armored frame shadowed the moonlight. "Do not do this to me…I beg you…" his eyes widened as his voice, once defiant, pleaded for mercy. Joachim broke their gaze, the tails of his robes fanning around his body as he turned and ran into the eerily quiet night. It would be difficult for him to run for long. Despite his unwilling mind, his body would give in to the vampire, eventually.

"Very well, Joachim, I shall give you a head start. Run. You may think you have the ability to escape me; however you are merely trying to escape what is inevitable. I will not let you vanish from my grasp so easily; though running away makes this all the more thrilling for me."

Joachim turned to hear Walter's words call after him within the darkness. He glimpsed at the creature's grinning face, revealing the points of his deadly fangs. His breaths became haggard the longer he ran down the path, tearing up fallen leaves and dust in his wake as the path disappeared behind him in a blanket of fog. Desperation rang through the deepest core of his soul, which urged him to run faster, despite knowing he was doomed. His escape promised the possibility of redemption – of knowing that, when he was captured and tainted, it had not been willingly. The last of his goodness would persevere until the end. He imagined the transformation of his body: the idea of his heart growing cold and his flesh white, all of it sculpted by Walter, as though the demon was an artist attempting to recreate his own twisted version of death.

Joachim blew the high pitch whistle song into the air that echoed through the forest. He did not know how far he had made it but listened intently while his breaths filled the night in thick puffs from his gaping mouth. The echo of hoof beats drew his eyes to the foggy nightscape. His frail body shivered in the cold and huddled to keep warm. The hoof beats gradually grew louder as the seconds passed, and his eyes lit like stars when the sight of his horse emerged through the fog at a gallop. A shrill whinny pierced the silent air the instant the stallion caught sight of his trembling form, and within the mist Joachim almost couldn't discriminate the silvery coat of his horse from the fog. The stallion halted before him and bumped its muzzle against his shoulder. Without hesitating, Joachim leapt upon the back of the beast, his voice straining with fear. "Cojiro! Make haste, as fast as you can, with every ounce of your will!" he balanced himself on the steed's back, grabbing hold of the mane for support and leaning forward to lessen his weight. The horse threw its head back before turning to gallop down the path. He guided the stallion with his legs, pressing harder into the horse's side with his metal heels to increase speed. The frigid night wind whipped against his face and fanned his shoulder length ivory hair behind him, as his eyes stared ahead at the pathway slowly revealing itself through the fog. The trees surrounding the path became a repetitive blur, and he heard the stallion blow harder puffs of breath into the air. His muscles tensed and seemed to stir unease through his horse, however it increased tenfold when he heard louder and heavier hoof beats echoing behind him, accompanied by a familiar voice.

_"Do you seriously believe you can escape me? I feel your fear coursing through your soul, draining away the fractions of hope you are so frantic to sustain…_"

Joachim dared to linger his gaze over his shoulder, but there was no one in sight to meet the words, which were evidently spoken from Walter. The vampire's voice resounded off the trees, which amplified it and enclosed it around him as if he was no more than a few paces behind. "Stop!" he screeched back between gritted teeth, and turned his head to forward again. "I won't listen to your lies! I want nothing to do with you!"

_"I can hear your heart beating within your chest, making the blood in your veins flow faster. As a vampire I hear a great many things…but best of all will be the sound of your voice crying out when my fangs pierce through your neck."_

Joachim squeezed the silken strands of Cojiro's silvery hair between his clenched fingers. Locks of his hair flew in his face the moment he resigned himself to keeping a constant gaze over his shoulder, and abruptly lost all coloration left within his skin when the sight of Walter became visible through the fog. The pounding of Walter's horse rang in his mind, and the closer the horse came the finer its bay coat gleamed like crimson blood under the moonlight. A deafening scream filled the air as the horse's eyes blazed and trickles of foam slid from the corners of its open muzzle. He kicked Cojiro firmly with his heels, begging the horse to gallop faster.

Joachim turned away and guided his horse to create another gap between them, though when he did, Walter followed until their horses were parallel. The young nobleman withdrew the broken sword and swung it madly when the vampire reached out to grab him. Walter's reaching hand attempted to grasp him by the collar of his robe. Before he could even let out a gasp, he leaned away to avoid it, accidentally sliding off his horse's back in the process. Within seconds, the cold, hard earth greeted him when he fell. Whether it was a miracle or a curse, he did not break his neck when his body collided against the ground. He lay there for a moment, his eyes wide in dazed confusion, until he managed to sit up and rub his head. Desperate to escape, he tried to get up but tripped over his robe. His ivory hair swished around his face and he coughed several times, blinded by the pain caused by his fall. His boots scraped against the soil until they regained their traction, and as he stumbled to his feet, he looked up and saw the vampire dismount his horse. "What have I done to deserve this? Is ruining my life not satisfactory enough?" He cried in the night, meeting the fresh glisten in his eyes that clouded his vision and distorted the vampire's form.

Within the fog came Walter's cold reply."No it is not. If your life is truly ruined, you have nothing to return to."

The youth's eyes gazed helplessly at the demon while he struggled to maintain his balance after another exhausted sensation flooded through him. It was not the doing of the vampire, but of his own body rebelling in weakness. "I cannot live for eternity when I know I am supposed to die!"

The pounding of hooves from Cojiro grew nearer until horse skidded to a halt between he and Walter. Joachim watched, his eyes widening, when his horse reared into the air and lashed its onyx hooves. The stallion's silvery coat gleamed in the moonlight and its long tresses fell gracefully upon its slender neck. When the enraged beast landed, it flattened its ears upon its regal head, its ivory incisors bared at the red-haired lord in challenge. Walter ginned, a twinkle of impatience and delight reflecting in his dark eyes. As if possessed, the horse thumped its hooves against the ground, its throat emitting a shrill, whinnying cry into the blackness of the night. Walter approached the beast calmly, ignoring its fit of rage as he raised his head, the locks of his hair falling in wavelets against his cheeks and neck. His eyes tinted a bright shade of red. Joachim could only watch in horror as the horse lowered itself to its knees upon the ground, its distressed cries turning into softened snorts until it collapsed onto its side. Though it still breathed, the animal's eyes closed. A howl of sorrow escaped his throat as he stared at his fallen horse. "Cojiro!" He tried to call the animal to him but it remained where it fell, unmoving. "No! What did you do to him?" He forced himself to run toward the animal, whereupon he fell to his knees and wrapped his arms around its neck in a sorrowful embrace.

The vampire stepped over the fallen beast as if it were merely a nuisance. There was nowhere to run or hide, now. Joachim felt his heart rate elevate while he stared up at Walter's face, the terror of what was to come making his body tremble. With the last of his will, he swung the broken sword at the creature. In mid-swing, Walter's gauntlet-covered hand snatched him by the wrist and squeezed. The demon only had to apply a small amount of pressure to make the young man scream. A torrent of pain quickly sized him as he felt his wrist threaten to snap like a twig under Walter's hold. Like a spring lamb to be slaughtered, he clung to the last minutes of his life, whilst his glassy gaze looked into those of his torturer. The black abyss within the vampire's eyes threatened to devour him, body, and soul at any moment. "What did you hope to accomplish through such a feeble attempt?" Tendrils of red hair swept around Walter's face as he leaned so close Joachim shuddered. The red-haired lord grabbed him by the collar of his robe and lifted him off the ground.

The young man's clawed at the creature's wrist, his eyes widening in fear as the vampire pulled him forward. "Release me!" He rasped, though the last of his desperate hope was shattered by the vampire's loud, echoing laughter.

Walter's eyes glazed. The darkness in the demon's eyes betrayed his elegance. His crimson hair and armor shone like blood, its magnificence rivaled only by its ability to terrify any who opposed his will. For a brief moment, a look of pity appeared in his eyes as he gaze down at the helpless young man. "Impossible. My thirst has already taken hold. I promise I will not kill you...completely."

"_Please, Walter_!" He choked, however he felt the vampire slowly reach for the first clasp on his shirt and unhook it, unveiling the tender flesh under the illumination of the moon. Joachim turned his head away and gazed at the ground. However, the creature's hand clamped around his chin and forced their eyes to meet. Without replying, the red-haired demon pressed his cold, pale lips over his exposed neck. As though death itself touched him, Joachim shuddered under the icy touch of Walter's lips upon his warm flesh. The demon's touch was delicate and careful, awaiting the perfect moment to carry out the young man's fate. Joachim struggled to free himself while he cried out, his voice straining. "_No! Don't!_ " Memories flashed through his mind. He pictured Catherine's smiling face and the life he was about to leave behind.

Many a man did not have the opportunity to look upon the face of death as he did. Yet, Walter's beautiful visage remained calm, though the hungry look in his eyes confirmed the inevitable. Joachim grimaced whilst his eyes spilled hot, wet tears down his wan cheeks. _Please God, help me! _Despite his silent pleas, no angel descended to save him from his fate. Of course, he knew better than to expect God's help. The only thing to witness the defilement of his body and soul was the lonely moon in the sky. Like the pale rider of death, the moon's white light shone upon the youth, emphasizing the fragility of his beauty and grace. At any moment, he would fade within the darkness, his soul forever warped by the demon's bite. The same God that did nothing to save his child would do nothing to save his soul. It did not matter if it was by his will or not, God would damn him once he was turned. A terrible rage filled the young man at the thought that God had finally abandoned him to his fate. Like a fallen angel, he would be forever tainted and despised. The demon's bite symbolized a rape upon his very soul - a profound defilement that, once made, was irreversible. Walter's possessive hold sought to ensure that nothing, not even God, would intervene to prevent the terrible fate that would be his. The burdens of his life – the death, pain, resentment, jealousy, and rage…would be his to bear for eternity.

Joachim's cries silenced the moment Walter's fangs punctured into his neck. His eyes froze open whilst his body succumbed to the agony reaping through his body. Yet, it did not take long for the young man to fall completely limp in the red-haired lord's embrace. Though the physical pain was nearly unbearable, a deeper pain surged through his soul which, at that moment, Walter took unwillingly from the light. Blood trickled in streams down the young man's milky throat, its hot, thick, warmth spilling upon the ground in a river of red. Despite the pain, he fought to remain conscious and his lips parted long enough to release a sorrowful wail that broke the merciless silence of the night. A part of him hoped that God heard his rage - the last bitter cry of a soul defiled and cast away.

When it felt like he had no blood left to sacrifice, he felt his body slip onto the ground, landing harshly in the pool of red liquid that had seeped around Walter's feet. The young man gasped, his pale eyes wide and glassy as he pressed one of his hands over the wound. Warm, thick, blood swirled between his fingers, staining the once beautiful, white skin completely red. With his last breath, he kept his hand pressed upon it whilst the other clawed at the earth in an effort to pull his wretched body forward. A dying wish to escape his own damnation, or perhaps, to believe God could yet save him from it. However, the suffocating darkness around him proved that he was, in the end, completely and utterly alone. At last, in his own blood, his trembling body fell still at Walter's feet. He looked up at the vampire's face, which wore a pitying, though ultimately, contented smile. Blood trickled from the corners of the demon's lips until he licked them like a cat, his dark eyes glinting whilst they gazed upon the dying young man. Walter kneeled and swept his long, black cape over the pale outline of the bleeding young lord, enveloping him in darkness. The moon's pale light vanished as if it had been snuffed out by an unseen hand. The pain was so great Joachim could not think. Within moments, his delicate lashes fluttered closed.

All that remained of that night was blackness. A thick, chilling blackness marking the end of a life he never had the chance to live.

**End of Part One**


	14. Chapter 14: Awakening

**Author's Note:** Welcome to part II of my story. Like I said, this story is pretty long...from here on, familiar LoI characters will start to appear. I am still editing each chapter (which is VERY time consuming because my grammar sucked five years ago). I am beginning to wonder if any of you can/have figured out what Walter's "problem/secret" is (heh, I'm not telling...yet). I am trying to maintain consistent quality in my writing so I apoloogize if you come across any grammatical/structural errors. The story is written in three parts and I think part II is one of the weaker ones (grammatically) that I need time to fix. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

Since no one knows when Joachim was turned into a vampire, my story will follow the LoI timeline. Some authors write him turning into a vampire centuries/decades before the events in LoI. In my story it is more recent, though hopefully it will all make sense to you later on. There are some crucial things that happen which will explain why I made his "turning" happen _shortly before _LoI...

Special Thanks:

As always, thank you for reading and reviewing my story! Without you guys I wouldn't be nearly as motivated to work on it. Especially my loyal reviewers...I appreciate hearing what you think about each chapter :) I know you've been excited to see what happens now that Joachim is a vampire. Well, you can expect Walter to play an even bigger role now (*sigh*, that red head loves attention... :P)

**Chapter XIV**

When he awoke, he found himself lying in the middle of a hard marble floor. The young man's pale lashes fluttered open to take in his surroundings. _Where am I? _A look of confusion and pain spread across his fine features while his lips curled into a scowl. Although he had regained consciousness, his recollection of that fateful night was vague, at best. It felt as if he had awoken from a long slumber. The young man was used to it, however, for it was common for him to sleep for days when he was extremely ill. Nevertheless, the feeling he experienced this time was slightly different – his entire body felt numb and cold, for his skin had turned a shade so pale that the thought he was dying briefly crossed his mind. When his eyes were able to focus better, he noticed that he was in a rather large, open room with a vaulted ceiling. Elaborate stone masonry and architecture donned the room's walls and ceiling. The arched windows lining the back of the room indicated that he had awoken during the middle of the night, for nothing except an entrenching blackness was visible beyond. Despite the darkness, numerous torches along the walls kept the room well lit and warm. Joachim forced himself to sit up, ignoring the dull pain running through his back. _Have I been taken prisoner?_ The young man's ashen hair cascaded around his face in untidy waves. Though haggard, he was strong enough to move and relatively unharmed. It did not take him long, however, to realize that his neck felt stiff and seared with a throbbing pain. One of his hands covered it, before his fingers felt the two holes punctured through the tender flesh.

"At last you have awakened. I was beginning to think I had killed you." The sound of Walter's voice drew his gaze to the back of the room. A bright red carpet ran up a small set of stairs leading to a slightly raised platform. Walter was seated upon a gold throne cushioned with red velvet. The vampire's crimson hair swished when he chuckled and rested his chin in his hand, his eyes staring at the perplexed young man with interest."Welcome to my castle." The red-haired lord continued, his fine lips forming a mischievous grin. "I trust you slept well?" He asked. "Forgive me for leaving you on the floor. I am afraid, I have not had a human guest stay here for quite some time. I see you are quite weak. Do not worry; it will pass once your heart ceases to beat."

Joachim attempted to stand up, placing his feet on the floor and falling back down when they gave way as though turned into sand. The sound of Walter's chuckle echoed through his mind until he found the courage to speak. His voice was hoarse yet undaunted, attempting to hide his fear. "Walter, damn you!" He cursed while he pointed his index finger at the lord accusingly, unable to endure the man's mocking tone. "You're lying! I am not a vampire!"

"Not yet." Walter remarked, giving the young man an amused look, his dark eyes glittering. "But you soon will be. Within a short time you will lose your humanity. I speak the truth, for the changes within you have already begun."

Joachim stared at him in disbelief, his hand wandering to his neck. He managed to force himself to his feet but staggered forward, his words breathless. "No…this can't be!" His effort to rationalize what was happening to him quickly fell apart. Nearly all the blood in his face drained when Walter's lips parted to confirm the truth, revealing two needle-like fangs protruding from his upper jaw. The sight made Joachim's eyes widen before he managed to gasp. "Monster! What have you done to me? I demand you release me from this curse!"

The amusement quickly left Walter's face. The red-haired lord's brow furrowed, his eyes hardening from the young man's constant denial. "Release you?" he chided, his voice lowering as a look of offence spread across his elegant visage. His lips quivered with rage as he replied. "Foolish child, it pains me to see you show no appreciation for my efforts to save your wretched life. Without my interference, you would have died within a month's time. Be grateful for the fact that I allowed you to address me with such disrespect. You are entitled to nothing." After pausing so the young man could comprehend his meaning, Walter added. "I could have killed you whenever it suited me. Never forget that."

Joachim glared at him fiercely, his silvery eyes blazing. "I wish you had killed me," he snarled. "I would _gratefully_ choose death over an eternity with you. Never forget _that_. Now, release me!"

Walter huffed, evidently unfazed by his remark. "Feel free to leave Eternal Night – though I assure you, it will not be easy."

An enormous pain flowed through his body when Walter waved his hand. Joachim's body suddenly lifted off the floor and was suspended in mid air, despite his kicks and struggles to free himself from the other lord's invisible restraint. "Do not dare insult me." Walter warned, waving his hand, which simultaneously shook the young man like a rag doll in the air. Joachim gasped and cried out, his head lashing forward and backward from the force of the other lord's motions. Then, as though satisfied by his silence, Walter signaled for the door to open. As if controlled by an unseen hand, the door's solid stone frame shifted at his command, allowing a rush of cold night air into the room. A starless night sky was visible beyond. Its foreboding blackness was eager to accept the vampire's reluctant offering. He gave Joachim a mocking bow as a coy grin plastered itself upon his smooth, eloquent face. "If you wish to leave, allow me to assist you, _milord_."

Joachim's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to retort. The moment his throat vibrated to speak, Walter thrust his arm forward, the motion simultaneously throwing him across the room. Walter's immense power catapulted the young man into the cold, dark night. He screamed in pain when his face collided against the stone platform. He rolled over, only to realize that he had landed upon a set of stairs. Nevertheless, the force of Walter's blow sent his frail, sickly form tumbling down them, his face smashing against the stone steps until he landed at the base of the staircase. He remained there for some time, regaining his strength until he managed to sit up. Though fatigued, he looked up at the crimson full moon looming in the sky. The moon's former whiteness looked as though it was stained by blood.

Between gasps of pain, his hand brushed across his forehead, before pulling away from the icy sensation emanating from the pale flesh. He had been lucky to not break anything during his fall. Fortunately, his chest armor protected him from serious injuries, which would have killed a frail man like him instantly. As he forced himself to his feet, his mind drifted in and out of focus. _What is happening to me? What has he done to me? _Joachim shook his head, his silvery white hair gleaming a tint of red under the moon's hellish glow. _He's lying. I am no different than before. I will not allow him to keep me prisoner here!_ He peered over the railing of the staircase. To his chagrin, nothing was visible below except an abyss of rolling gray clouds. His hands clenched into fists as he descended the steps leading into the castle's depths.

The doors of the castle were ornate in design, detailed with either marble or gold depicting unicorns and other mythological creatures. After wandering around for some time, unsure of where he was going, a loud thumping noise reverberated down a hallway he had entered. Stained glass windows lined the hall and reflected colorful patterns across the carpeted floor. Despite the castle's beautiful architecture, his eyes froze upon a hideous creature approaching him. The creature's mammoth-like form made the walls tremble as the young man halted, his eyes widening, whilst his heart pounded relentlessly against his ribcage. _Are those…monsters? Impossible! What kind of treachery is this? Perhaps I am hallucinating again? _A large,

dark yellow colored creature an eye in the middle of their forehead moved toward him, carrying a large wooden club in one of its massive fists. Joachim froze like a startled deer, his thoughts racing as he struggled to decide what to do. _What is this place! Have I been dragged into the pit of hell? _There was no time to deliberate further. Without thinking, he rushed toward the creature and darted through its legs, narrowly escaping being bludgeoned by its swinging club. In his frenzy, he did not consider where he was going, except to reach the doors on the opposite side. It occurred to him then that he had never been able to move with such speed before. Yet, it came so naturally to him that he relished his newfound strength.

A slight smirk crossed his lips, and he huffed with dismissal when he opened the door and emerged into a hallway illuminated only by the strange pale moonlight flooding through the windows on the right side. Emerald green carpeting lined with gold made a pathway down the hallway. Joachim move on cautiously, staring around him at the elaborately designed area. He took the steps on the left and descended them, where upon he entered another hall lined with the crimson carpeting. Joachim scanned the area but there were no monsters in sight, and after he descended the steps he whirled to see a decorative metal suit of armor holding a sword. The sword was tarnished and rusted. However, its massive size astonished him, for it seemed only a giant could wield it. He had no choice except to take it with him. The weight of the cumbersome blade slowed him down.

It relieved him when he finally reached the castle's entranceway. Though it was deserted, he scanned it for monsters before descending the balcony steps to the main floor. It surprised him that the entrance was left unguarded. The castle's open archway revealed the blackness of the night beyond. Without hesitating, the young man ran toward it, crossing the castle's massive drawbridge. Ahead was a gravel path leading into a deep forest. After some time passed wandering through the dense evergreen trees, and he nearly dropped his sword when he emerged in front of the castle again. _How can this be? Perhaps I took a wrong turn._ He huffed as he made his way back into the forest. After what seemed like several hours, his eyes caught sight of a clearing ahead. Thinking he had finally reached the border of Eternal Night, he ran for the clearing, his breath escaping into the frigid winter air in silvery puffs. However, he skidded to a halt when he sighted the familiar castle looming ahead. Despite going a completely different direction, he had returned to the same place once more. The young man's pale blue eyes glared at the castle in loathing as his lips released a frustrated hiss.

Without warning, a black shadow appeared on the drawbridge of the castle. "You are even more of a fool than I imagined." Joachim stepped back when Walter's tall, armored frame emerged through the darkness. The torches lighting the bridge cast a dim glow across his unnaturally ashen face. Joachim stared at the sight in mortification, unable to move as the other lord approached him confidently. "So, you have managed to make it out of my castle. What you feel now is only the beginning."

The vampire's eyes glinted while the young lord shouted at him, his hands trembling. "No. You're lying! I have no reason to believe you!" His words echoed into the night, but all that met him was the sound of Walter's mocking laugh.

"Denying it will not spare you from your fate. Go ahead and attempt to leave again - try any method you wish. The night is eternal in this forest. Unless I permit it, there is no escape."

"_Permit_ me? I do not need your permission." Joachim retorted, his hands fumbling to swing the sword at the other lord. The sword was large, heavy, and completely useless. How could any human being properly wield such a massive weapon? Very quickly, he found himself without anything to support his bold statement. Nevertheless, his lips curled into a sneer whilst his eyes narrowed upon Walter with a will to incinerate him, his voice dagger-like. "I am a lord. The people from Creightel – my friends –will come here looking for me."

The vampire chuckled louder, nearly laughing in the darkness so ominously his body stiffened to hear his reply. "I doubt that. Your friends have forsaken you; you have no one to search for you. If by chance I am wrong, let them come…they would not leave my castle alive."

The tone of his voice stung Joachim like venom, and he recoiled in shock to find it was the painful truth. "You…_you_…planned this from the beginning didn't you? You turned my friends against me, and took me to this horrible place…why?" Seething within his rage, he swung the huge sword madly in the air, hardly aware of his actions except to hear the vampire's reply to his desperation. Taunting him, Walter smirked and faded into a shadow, his crimson form disappearing within the night. He could not deny that, despite the vampire's annoying appearances, there may have been some truth in his words. With a frustrated sigh, he returned to the castle. _Perhaps another passage will take me back to Creightel. _He glanced sullenly at the sword in his hand, nearly throwing it away until he noticed that several other suits of armor held the same swords as the one he carried. _All of these blades are rusting and useless! I will surely perish in here unless I find something better than this._ He picked up the five swords and carried them with him, knowing he did not have time to decide which blade was the sharpest. He explored one of the corridors leading out of the main entranceway until a strange blue door engraved with circular symbols caught his attention. Though he did not know where it led, he pushed it until it admitted him into the small room beyond.

The room glowed with an aqua blue light from two pools of crystal clear water on either side of a pathway leading to an alter. Up the alter steps was a stone angel statue, its head was tilted upward as though looking at the heavens. The room was silent except for the drafts of air whistling through the cracks in the windowpanes. Narrow stained glass windows surrounded the room. At the end of the room, however, behind the angel were large arched windowpanes covered by a wrought iron gate. He walked toward the angel and fell to his knees at the foot of the statue. His silvery white hair fell around his face, and his eyelids felt heavy with fatigue, drawing him unwillingly into sleep.

It was not until the darkness swallowed him that his dying heart ceased to beat.

* * *

He awoke sometime later, and scanned the room, his eyes hurting from the water's glowing blue light. The young lord crawled to the pools of water and shivered when a sensation of iciness flowed through him. Mechanically, he brushed away a strand of his hair, flinching when something scraped against his cheeks. He glanced at his fingers and gasped, for his nails were sharp and pointed like claws. _What…what's happening to me_…? He diverted his gaze away and crouched near the pool of water. When his pale eyes glimpsed at his reflection, a tremor of fear surged through him upon finding that his skin was as white as death itself. At first, he could not believe that what he saw was real. After taking a moment to think, he gathered enough nerve to look again, hoping that his mind was playing tricks on him, which often happened when he was ill.

Joachim looked at his reflection again, not daring to turn away when he saw his face staring back and his eyes wide with surprise. His indigo colored clothing only enhanced his sallow flesh, and he breathed deeply in a feeble attempt to calm his whirling terror. He staggered to his feet, hardly able to keep standing as he flinched at the feeling of his cold hands. "No…." he murmured to himself, the voice inside him escalading with his terror. The young man fell to his knees on the floor, his ashen hair cascading against his face and shoulders when he covered his face with his hands and wept. Beneath his clothing, he could not feel his heartbeat – his entire body was cold, pale, and lifeless. Before he could compose himself, a bitter cry pierced through his throat and resounded off the walls in the small room. "This can't be!" He choked, his throat tightening. "Surely this is all a dream? I cannot be dead!" Yet, no matter how hard he tried to deny it, he knew it was true. The puncture marks on his neck confirmed that he was changing into something…_inhuman_.

For so long he believed he had always known fact from fiction. Vampires, to him, were nothing but legends passed down to frighten the weak. People's desire to create potions, crosses, pendants, holy water, and other like, to ward away the undead had seemed foolish and pointless in his eyes. However, the existence of vampires had suddenly become real and terrifying. Loud, anguished sobs escaped his lips as he slammed his fists against the floor, feeling his cold flesh collide against equally cold stone. He clenched his teeth together in rage but hesitated when a hot, tangy liquid filled his mouth. The young man touched his lower lip with his hand, drawing it back upon sighting a thick, red liquid trickle down his index finger. With a gasp, he ran his tongue across his teeth until something sharp pricked it. Before he could stop himself, his body lunged toward the pools of water, his eyes drawn to the pasty reflection of himself gazing back. What greeted him was the sight of two needle-like fangs protruding between his trembling lips. A flood of horror seeped through his pale blue eyes, the sight blinding him in a haze of fear and anguish as he staggered to his feet, his voice crying out. "What has happened to me? Am I truly…a _vampire_?" He staggered back and while the realization began to set in.

Hot tears streamed down his face and burned against his tainted flesh. Although he had been pale as a human, his skin had turned a milky white coloration, reminding him of the fact that his heart had ceased to beat. "No!" He screamed, unable to contain his horror at finding that, though dead, he still lived. His soul remained intact, trapped forever on earth in a state of purgatory. Despite his fear and anguish, a sickening voice inside him implied he deserved his fate. _I was arrogant, self-righteous, and proud…_ He shuddered to himself, his eyes darting to the gated windowpanes, searching the heavens for an absolution but finding only darkness instead. _I refused to believe in vampires. I thought I knew the truth. Everyone around me were fools, when in fact, I was the fool in the end. Now, I am to be damned to eternal darkness, my soul doomed to consume the blood of humanity. And Walter…_ He did not even wish to think what the other lord had in mind. A chilling thought made him cringe, momentarily paralyzing him with fear and rage. _Walter planned this since the beginning. He…turned me into a thing, a beast, a…monster._

A monster. The very thing people thought he was, he had become in reality. _Damn you Walter!_ His mind screeched as his eyes narrowed, their pupils tinting a faint shade of red. Joachim's attention fled to the five swords scattered throughout the room. A dark thought made a shadow appear across his ashen face, his lips curling into a frown whilst he contemplated impaling himself upon one of the blades. It was a comforting thought, for he could end it all before it even began. Walter would not gain the satisfaction of seeing him fall into vampirism. Yet, he knew deep within himself that he did not have the nerve to end his own life. Especially if he never knew the reason why. Although he desired to kill Walter, he was too weak to lift even one of the five massive blades and wished he had found practical weapons instead. However, he noticed one of the blades twitch, its rusted metal surface scraping lightly across the floor without him even touching it. Joachim stared harder at the sword, his thoughts whirling, conflicted between uncertainty and curiosity. It was impossible for him to have touched it, even accidentally, since the sword was on the opposite side of the room. It took great effort for him to carry all five blades to that sacred chamber. Why he even bothered, he did not know.

He stared at the sword for a long time, his thoughts focusing on it with growing interest. Although he was tempted to pick it up again, the sheer size and power of the rusting blade made him reconsider. _What is this? I cannot use these swords. They are much too heavy…a true swordsman would never even consider them… _A voice inside him reminded him that he was thinking about a _human_ swordsman. If Walter was capable of lifting him into the air and shaking him like a dog with a pheasant in its mouth, surely he could do the same. His thoughts focused on the five swords relentlessly, trying to understand how he may have made one of them move. Despite being dead, he was not immune to the monsters wandering around the castle.

Joachim continued to keep his thoughts focused on the swords. Over and over he commanded them to move. It seemed simple enough, though yielded little results. His mind continued to summon the blades until his patience was rewarded when one of the swords shifted over the floor again, attempting to obey his beckoning thoughts. He concentrated harder, trying to emulate Walter, who could control objects with barely the bat of an eyelid. Since he was not as advanced – yet – he lifted his hand and waved it at the weapon. "Come here." His calm voice echoed through the room. The blade shifted again, partly rising off the floor before it fell with a clatter. _Pathetic_. His thoughts summoned the sword to him once again. _Come to me, now! _Finally, his efforts were rewarded. The blade turned in the air and pointed itself at him, before swooping toward him, narrowly missing his head, until it collided into the wall. Joachim gasped, his eyes widening with astonishment. _Excellent. Now, pull back- _He had barely begun to command it again when the blade freed itself, responding to his thoughts before he had even finished them. It was as if his powers had symbiotically merged with the sword.

It surprised him how easily he had managed to control it. He had half-expected his powers to develop over centuries, not hours. A surge of fear flooded through him as he wondered what else he was capable of. He had become a vampire, a creature that walked the night. He covered his face with his hands at the thought, nearly digging his nails into his flesh as he moved toward the door and reached out to open it. The door swung open from his mind's command. Somehow, his thoughts and abilities were connected and his power to manipulate objects was growing stronger.

a black shadow suddenly appear before him, and it glowed white when Walter's form emerged from within the darkness. The other lord walked proudly into the room, the soles of his boots clapping across the stone floor, whilst his lips curved into a broad smirk. In the brightly lit room, Walter appeared even paler and more imposing than before. Joachim could barely grasp the fact that despite seeing him several times, he had not entirely taken notice of the lord's unnatural mannerisms. He thought he knew what he was dealing with. However, Walter's smirking expression confirmed his assumptions had been so very wrong. The red-haired lord examined him meticulously with his dark eyes, as though desiring to capture his appearance – the deathly white skin and hair, piercing blue eyes, which emphasized by his slender and delicate form. Then, in an attempt to compliment him, Walter's calm voice filled the small room. "So, you have finally accepted your fate. It seems you have found a way of channeling your powers." Walter walked toward him; his red armor glinting in the dimly lit room as he swished away strands of his blood-red hair, which coiled against his face and neck in thick layers.

"_What do you want?_" Joachim glowered at him bitterly and ignored his instinct to attack. Even with his newfound weapons, he was still too weak to fight.

"I decided to drop in for a visit." Walter chided, ignoring the young creature's returned animosity. "This is my castle after all, and I may go wherever I wish."

"If that is the case, go away then." Joachim turned away, breaking the gaze Walter attempted to hold upon him.

For a moment, the red-haired lord gave him a scathing look, his eyes narrowing. Yet, Walter remained patient as a look of concern spread across his face. He took a step forward, which made Joachim step back. With a sigh, Water looked at Joachim in the eyes once again as his voice softened. The young man could barely believe it, but somewhere within the other lord's voice, he swore he heard a hint of an apology. "You're fear is understandable." He began and bowed his head, attempting to appease the newly turned creature before him. "However, there is nothing to fear. You will soon realize everything that hindered you as a human is no more. I swear to you, you will never suffer from your illness again. I have cured you of it at last…now…you may begin a new life here. If you serve me, you shall lead a life of greater privilege and power than you could ever imagine."

"Serve _you_?" The words tasted bitter in his mouth. Joachim's lips curled into a sneer at the mere implication as he hissed. "Do you think me a fool? I have been taken unwillingly. You shall receive no pleasure from my obedience, Walter." Indeed, he had every reason in the world to refuse him. His life had fallen apart – and he knew the source of his ruin stood before him, smiling at him as though it had all been some kind of game. Joachim hated Walter's smile with a passion to rip his lips off his face with one feral swipe. Yet, a part of him did not have the energy to bother trying. His body still felt weak and frail, as though he had not supped in days.

Walter's eyes glinted knowingly, his words confident though careful not to distress him further. "We can discuss this later. You are tired and hungry. In my haste to claim you, I regret that I did not consider your appetite. Tis' been a rather long time since I turned anyone."

"I am not hungry." Joachim lied. He wished he was as good at lying as Walter was. The other lord saw through it instantly.

"I am afraid food is no longer a necessity," He began, whilst Joachim's face turned into a mask of unspoken horror. The young man's eyes widened, his lips parting as if to speak but remaining still as Walter continued. A shadow crept across his face, which suddenly wore a look of seriousness and unease. "If you do not consume blood within the next hour, you will die."

"What?" Joachim could barely comprehend the meaning behind Walter's words. Although he was weak, he had grown so accustomed to the feeling that it seemed natural. Walter's lips pursed a moment as the young man attempted to regain his composure. The idea of drinking blood made his face contort into a look of disgust. More than anything, he wanted to escape from Walter's prying gaze, to flee into the night and out of the other lord's reach. However, when he attempted to walk beyond the threshold of the door, his steps were uneven and labored. Joachim leaned on the doorframe for support, gasping for breath, his eyes widening. "How?" He rasped, his voice becoming hoarse under the strain flooding through his entire body. It was a pain much worse than what he had felt as a human. He could not imagine having to hunt something, or worse, _someone_ to ease it.

The other lord stepped toward him again, his dark eyes fixed upon the young creature, never leaving him for an instant. Walter's voice, though audible and deep, hinged on fear. If it was possible for the vampire to fear anything, Joachim saw it then within his eyes. After a moment of contemplation, Walter's skin seemed to turn a shade paler when the words finally left his lips. "Do not move," he ordered, his voice softening. Joachim hesitated in the doorway. It was tempting to disobey him for the sake of displeasing him, however, the intensity in Walter's eyes made him refrain. The vampire lord approached him until they stood merely inches apart. Walter's tall, imposing frame shadowed the pale young creature. "You have gone too long without blood to sustain you. There is only one other way though, I am certain, you will not approve."

Joachim felt a lump in his throat as he croaked. "What do you mean?" He stared for a long time, his frail body shuddering. He was in no position to refuse whatever the vampire instructed him to do. It seemed his desire to die only stretched so far – though not far enough to end it altogether. He could not understand what made him cling to his wretched existence so desperately. He had lost too much, suffered too greatly, and was damned to a hell on Earth. Nevertheless, Walter's gaze tried to provide him some small form of comfort. Before he could push the vampire lord away, his arms encircled around him, holding him securely in a tender embrace. As though able to feel the young man's fear, Walter's gauntlets stroked his fine, white hair, whilst he replied. "I do not wish for you to die and I know you do not, either." He soothed. "Do not expel what is left of your strength. You shall not die, Joachim, as long as you follow what I say. I have never done this for anyone, not even others I have turned in the past. Perhaps, you could say, I am about to bestow you with a rather…personal gift."

"A gift?" Joachim repeated, his voice dulled by his pain. He did not realize how close to death he was until he felt a sudden blackness begin to encompass his mind.

Walter's embrace tightened as he lowered himself to the floor, taking the young man with him, his words reassuring despite the tension that wore across his smooth, prominent features. "Yes. I do not have much time. You are growing weaker every moment. Do not speak." Joachim's body fell limp. He could not move even if he wanted to. He watched Walter remove one of his gauntlets, exposing one of his pale hands. The red-haired lord's fingers grasped the skintight sleeve of the black undergarment he wore beneath his armor and hiked it up to his elbow. As Joachim watched, his mind became clouded in a kind of thick, disorientated fog. Walter's once clear features were soon blurred while he struggled to remain conscious. As though he were an infant, Walter draped him across his lap, his hold upon him firm but delicate as he instructed. "Listen to me. You have no time left to argue. Drink from me. Though this will rejuvenate you, it shall weaken me greatly in exchange."

Joachim felt a gasp leave his lips as he tried to focus on the blur that had become Walter's face. The only distinctive feature he could see was the glint of the vampire's dark, mysterious eyes looking down at him. In a barely audible voice, he rasped. "W-what? I…do not understand…from you? I can't-"

"You must." He urged, his once calm voice straining from the young man's resistance. "If you do not, you will die. Do it now, before I change my mind…"

"I would rather…die…" Joachim turned his head away, the locks of his ashen hair cascading against his cheeks. A sob threatened to free itself from his entrapping throat. He could not believe that in order to live he had to drink the other lord's blood. It reviled him more than anything in the world. Some part of him thought it was better to just die. It was his last chance to choose between two separate fates – the last opportunity for him to allow his humanity to take him in death.

However, Walter's tightening hold dragged him back into darkness once more. The lord's voice deepened as a flash of red appeared within his starlit pupils. "Drink from me, _now_, before it's too late! You cannot die." Joachim could not mistake hearing his lord's passionate plea, for it was the first time he heard Walter ask _him_ for anything. The desperation in Walter's eyes increased. Joachim could barely believe that Walter was actually fearful – and wondered whether the vampire even realized it himself. Within seconds, Walter thrust his bare arm in front of the young man's face, exposing the vulnerable, pallid flesh, to Joachim's thirsting fangs. He managed to give the other lord a discerning, yet confused look upon sighting the faint outline of veins underneath the veil of skin. Walter lowered his head, allowing curtains of his thick, red hair to flow around his face. His beautiful, dark eyes were unblinking. "Pierce my flesh with your fangs," His whispered. "Or else embrace your own death."

Joachim hesitated one last time. It would be the last moment that he could ever call himself a human being. For the first time, he felt like he had the power to control his own destiny. His life – undead or not – would be _his_ to make as he saw fit. Illness would no longer shackle him to his bed. He would literally have centuries to do the things he was incapable of doing as a sickly young man. The heat of Walter's breath, combined with the passion in his voice, compelled him to choose the darkness over heaven's light. It was impossible for him to go to heaven if he died. His sins – the murderous, hateful, malice inside him, would never permit the salvation of his soul. God did not exist - not in this world, perhaps not even in the next. He did not care if he turned into a demon. Let it happen. There was nothing left for him to love in the world except the Night. With a final sob, Joachim made his resolve, his eyes locking onto Walter's offered wrist. Then, after drawing in a hungry snarl, he bit into the cold, icy flesh, his fangs piercing through it as if it was paper. In his frenzy to satisfy his hunger, he suckled upon the wound, his eyes glazing over, fighting back death's cruel grip upon his soul.

Walter emitted an agonized groan, his great frame trembling as the young creature fed. The sweet, warm tang of blood filled his mouth and flowed down his throat. A feeling of ecstasy and renewal filled Joachim. Suddenly, everything became clearer in his eyes. His vision could see through the darkness and trace the outline of Walter's face. The other lord's enamels were gritted, a mask of pain and agony reaping through his once calm, proud features faster than wildfire. The look of pain his lord wore made Joachim drive his fangs even deeper with a will to sever them completely through the vulnerable flesh. Walter groaned again, infuriated by the young man's attempt while the gauntlet-covered fingers of his other hand grasped Joachim by the hair and tried to yank him back. However, he underestimated the young lord's thirst. Joachim kept his fangs planted in the skin, his tongue eager to savor the taste of Walter's blood as it gushed down his throat.

Finally, with a loud growl, Walter gripped Joachim by the nape and squeezed. His iron-like grip grasped onto the frail creature with the potential to snap his neck in half. "That is enough for now! You must learn to control your thirst…lest you drain _me_ completely dry. I assure you, it would be an unwise attempt." Without waiting for him to release his fangs, Walter's great arm pulled him back, unhindered by the tear of his own flesh when Joachim's fangs dragged ruthlessly across it. The lord's face, however, contradicted the power and firmness of his voice. Walter fell back against the wall, his chest heaving as his strength threatened to leave him at the mercy of the young, hungry creature he held. Like a wild beast, Joachim clawed against the other lord's armor, fighting to reclaim Walter's blood for himself. The thirst for more had driven him to the brink, nearly turning him into someone not even Walter could recognize. Nevertheless, the other lord regained his composure quickly, his voice softening as Joachim's struggles ceased. Walter gave him a weak but knowing look, his exhaustion making his voice sound oddly faint. "In time, you will learn when to cease feeding. I cannot give you more, Joachim, not now…"

The other lord's breaths became haggard and weak, though his grip upon the young man remained strong – just in case. Joachim lay sprawled in Walter's arms, his eyes staring at the ceiling as trickles of blood slid down the corners of his lips. He returned his lord's words with a satisfied smile. For a moment, he did not care about anything except his thirst. He began to understand why vampires fed with such fervent cruelty when his thoughts wandered to the fateful night he was bitten. It must have taken great effort for Walter to resist killing him. He looked directly into Walter's, glittering eyes, which had acquired a dull and glassy look. The other lord's chest heaved and beads of perspiration slipped down his face as if he had a fever. A surge of sympathy overcame Joachim's hunger, his thoughts reflecting on the fact that his lord had given him a part of himself. Something passed between them when he fed for the first time off his own master. _Master? _His lips curled from the admission. They gazed at each other for a long time, neither bothering to speak because words were unneeded. The look of gratitude upon Joachim's ashen face was enough to lower Walter's guard.

His dark eyes glinted thoughtfully as he looked at Joachim's sculpted figure. Despite feeding, he was still weak and unable to move without aid. Knowing this, a smirk crept across Walter's lips as his head drew close to the young man, his voice a deathly whisper. "Do not be afraid, Joachim. I promise I shall be with you when you awaken." The soft words eased the young man's racing thoughts. Joachim breathed a sigh, his chest no longer needing to rise and fall, for he did not require air to breathe. Walter's hand stroked his cheek soothingly, though his face briefly tensed from the pain it caused him. The bite in his wrist continued to bleed. Joachim's eyes lingered upon the wound he had inflicted, regretting what he had done. He managed to lift one of his frail hands and rest it upon Walter's. The blood trickling from his wrist painted his fingertips in red. He closed his eyes as he traced his fingers across the wound, momentarily wishing to ease his lord's pain, failing to see Walter's face draw near. Walter's hungry lips covered his, smothering him in a deep, lustful kiss. Joachim let a soft groan escape his throat as his lord's hands slipped inside his robes, gently massaging the tainted white flesh. The vampire lord pulled in him closer so that their chests touched, and the young man's head fell back, his pearly white hair flowing against his shoulders and exposing the graceful curves of his sloping neck. He felt the intensity and passion of his desire, the lord's arms tightening around the young creature with a will to merge their two bodies into one. Something about exchanging blood was deeply personal to Walter. Joachim sensed it in the way the lord kissed him, as well as in the fervent but gentle way in which he was held. Though illness no longer plagued the young nobleman, the red-haired lord continued to touch him delicately, as though fearing that his pale body would disintegrate in his arms. Walter's fiery red hair curtained around Joachim's face, enticing the young man enough to forgo resisting his will.

Despite his lord's passion, he noticed that Walter's hold was somewhat strained, as though he was exerting great effort to keep him there. He could almost feel his lord's weakened state, for his breaths were shallow and his eyes dull. Now was his moment to strike and kill the other vampire when he was too weak to fight. Joachim wanted to summon his sword but the yearning inside him made him relent. He allowed Walter's tongue to explore the insides of his mouth, his hunger for the other lord sending an array of pleasured sensations through his body. He ran his hands through the other vampire's thick, red hair, hearing Walter groan from his willing touch. It took all of Joachim's strength to sit up in his lord's lap, their lips still locked, while he hiked his legs around Walter's torso. Despite being heavily armored, there was a place Walter's chest and leg armor did not cover. The young creature sought it readily, pressing his lower half against it until he felt the other lord's hardness against his own. He wrapped his arms around the back of Walter's neck, pulling him into his embrace and kiss, unwilling to let the other lord go despite his exhaustion.

It was tempting for him to allow Walter to take him then, on the floor, to allow the other lord to shed his clothes and have his way. But he was not ready for it – or more likely, too afraid to allow it. He pictured Catherine's smiling face in his mind. The woman's bright green eyes looked at him gently, her lips soft, her expression filled with happiness and longing – missing him and waiting for him. He feared and wondered what happened to her during his absence while, simultaneously, forgetting himself in the taste of Walter's kiss. He could not go back to his old life. Walter knew it and was eager to take advantage of his vulnerable state. He had, predictably, fallen into the other lord's trap. However, he was fortunate that he did not have to express his sudden revulsion. Walter was the first to part from their kiss, his frame weakening along with the dim look in his eyes, failing to notice the young man's anger. "Let us…rest for a while." He said in a tired voice. Joachim complied, allowing the lord to lay him down on the floor. Walter's heavy frame fell back against the wall, his chest heaving a sigh before his delicate lids fluttered closed.

Not long after, Joachim joined him in sleep.


	15. Chapter 15: Temptation

**Author's Note: **chapter 15 is finally up! It took me a while to edit it. I noticed that there aren't many stories about Joachim interacting with the monster's in Walter's castle. Since my story closely follows LoI, I wanted to explain how the new surroundings in Eternal Night would affect Joachim. Sometimes I wish I didn't suck at drawing so I could provide concept sketches of my original characters. If readers could see them, it might make them more likable. Catherine is described from Joachim's POV so I hope if you are reading, you will think his devotion to her is understandable.

Special Thanks:

If you are reading/following this story, thank you (even if you don't review/leave feedback).

**LateNiteSlacker: **Thank you for reviewing :) I think I've read way too much Hamlet and allowed it to influence this story. I noticed that in the game, Joachim's theme resonates with tension, sorrow, and anger. Some really bad things had to have happened for his character to be portrayed in such a dark context. As for Catherine, you will "sort of" get your wish to see her in this chapter, though I promise she will return later on. I hope you can see how Joachim's transformation is beginning to change him...and Walter certainly isn't helping. I always believed that the relationship between Joachim and Walter (if you can even call it a relationship) was characterized by constant power-struggles, turmoil, and perhaps grudging admiration for each other. I am really pleased you have kept reading and to see that you are interested in Catherine. Usually, reader reception toward original characters is "lukewarm" at best...

I'm glad that when this story gets a bit too dark (even for me) I can retreat to yours and get a few laughts out of seeing a lighter, more playful portrayal of Joachim.

**Rahar Moonfire: **As always, thank you for your loyal reviews! It means a lot. The tension will continue to build between Joachim and Walter from now on. Don't worry, if your looking for more "action" you'll get to read some, eventually. I like to take my time since it would be a bit OC for Joachim to suddenly sleep with Walter after his transformation. ;) (I'd bet his fans would like it anyway, though!) Poor Joachim in this chapter though...I almost considered writing a lemon between him and the Succubus but it didn't seem right since he's intelligent/perceptive enough to know her true identity. Well, if demand for it is high enough, I might reconsider... *cheeky smile* I've even 'considered' a Mathias fling but I think Mathias is too crazy/self-absorbed/in love with Elizabetha to really take an interest in Joachim.

**AzariyaBelmont: **Thank you for reviewing :) I am flattered you really like my story and think it is great. I wish there was more extensive fanfiction available about Walter. I think Walter is a multi-dimensional character with a basically (blank) backstory that leaves tons of room for imagination and development. There will be more between Joachim and Walter later on. I'm starting to understand why Joachim gets so irritated by Walter - despite trying to villainize him he is just too likable (sometimes). Walter has darker/violent tendencies that often (and unintentionally) overshadows his kindness...

**Chapter XV**

When he awoke, his eyes drifted hazily throughout the small room until they fell upon Walter. The other lord stood near the gated windowpanes, his back turned to him, whilst his gaze lingered upon the moon looming in the black night sky. The moon's red glow cast a strange light around his armored form, its reddish beams spilling across the floor around his feet like remnants of blood. The sight transfixed Joachim, his pale eyes widening until the other lord suddenly turned to face him, his ivory face gleaming. "It seems you are awake," Walter observed in a quiet voice, barely batting an eyelid when he added. "Your wounds have healed as well. I am glad." The lord flicked his cape, allowing the garment to wrap around him as he approached the stone angel. He cast a sharp glance at the object, his lips forming into a sneer before dismissing it. A satisfied look appeared upon his face as he studied the young man carefully, impressed by Joachim's pale flesh and hair.

Joachim bolted to his feet, his body trembling under the vampire lord's meticulous gaze. He felt much stronger, now. For the first time in his life, he got up without gasping for air or struggling. His body felt like it had been re-made. Everything seemed new to him, as if he had just awoken from a nightmare. A smile spread across his lips, exposing his fangs, whilst he straightened his posture and raised his head. He could tell his excitement amused the other lord. A low chuckle vibrated through Walter's throat as he watched the young creature bound across the room's small pathway and up the two steps. "Am I dead?" It seemed too good to be real. He could run without feeling like he was going to faint. Nothing inhibited him. Not even the sickness that burdened him when he was human.

"Yes." Walter answered, still chuckling, though humoring his obvious question. The vampire's dark eyes glinted. "Are you pleased with the results? As promised, you are completely cured. You have nothing to fear now."

"Except you." Joachim's eyes hardened upon the other lord. He had not forgotten what transpired before he fell asleep. Despite his elation, he remained cautious and kept his distance.

Walter seemed to gain even greater amusement from watching him back away, evidently, aware of what his new companion was implying. His voice calmed while a serious air overtook his lighthearted sentiments. "You will not have to fear me," he replied, giving the white-haired creature a deliberate glare. "If you obey me. Tis' simple, really. I have claimed you for myself – everything you are belongs to me. My castle is your sanctuary and you may go where you please, though I warn you, I will be greatly disappointed if you try to escape."

"Am I your prisoner?" Joachim sneered, hating the idea of being controlled in any way. The sound of the other lord's laughter rang through the room and echoed off the walls, nearly deafening him.

A flicker of amusement appeared in Walter's eyes, his lips forming a slight smirk before he shook his head, the tendrils of his red hair splaying across his shoulders. "No…tis' not like that," he answered enigmatically. "As I said, you are free to explore at your leisure. Though, it would be unwise to disobey me. You do not yet understand what it means to be vampire, Joachim. Human beings will try to kill you on sight. Leaving here could mark the end of your immortal life."

Joachim contemplated the other vampire's words. It was true. If he left, he was not sure what he would do or where he would go. Armster Manor was out of the question. Not even the sanctuary he had as a human could protect him now. He was at the mercy of Walter, dependent upon his lord for his very life, protection, and guidance. The idea of escaping dependency as a sickly lord, only to regain it again as a vampire incensed him to no end. An indignant scowl pressed across his lips, his voice reproaching the vampire for his over-confidence. "And what will happen to me if I stay?" He asked, testing his lord's patience with a will to defy it, if necessary. "I am no use to you. I don't even know my own powers, yet. Surely I will burden you?"

"Quite the contrary." Walter replied, a smile spreading across his face in rebuke of the young creature's skepticism. A dark glint appeared in his eyes. "I have spent many centuries alone in Eternal Night. I confess, it has been too long. Your presence here will break the monotony of immortality. At least, that is my wish." He shrugged casually.

"So I am here to amuse you, then? Like some sort of court jester?" Joachim sneered. How he loved testing Walter's patience.

Walter remained completely calm, his eyes continuing to study him carefully. A dull, red flicker appeared in his irises for a second, until he shook his head again, ignoring the young man's attempt to bait him. "No," he replied, his voice articulating every single word to prevent any possibility of misinterpretation. "It is not that simple. You are here because I hunted you, tainted you, and made your beautiful body immortal. I admit, you are the only one who is worthy of serving me."

"Of serving _you_?" Joachim threw his head back, allowing the sound of his loud, chilling, laugh to reverberate through the room. His eyes flashed a hint of red. As suddenly as he laughed, he calmed and withdrew a breath, his lips curling in defiance. "Oh, my dear Walter, do you think I am a fool?" He chided under his breath, his thoughts focusing on the sword he left near the statue, which was conveniently located behind his lord's imposing frame. "Don't flatter yourself! I have no intention of serving you, and I apologize in advance if the news is disappointing. Have you forgotten the fact that I am a lord? I serve only _myself_."

"So you think." A scowl formed across the vampire's fine lips. Before the white-haired youth had the chance to speak again, Walter's form disappeared in a black shadow, before reappearing directly in front of him. Joachim nearly fell over, his face a mask of terror and rage when the vampire's powerful hand seized him by the neck and lifted him off the floor. His eyes widened into blue spheres under the gauntlet's constraint, which squeezed his throat so hard that his vision blurred. "Please, continue," Walter smirked, his dark eyes eyeing the young man with mock-interest. The only sounds that returned his request were the dull, trembling gasps that managed to escape the young man's throat as he feebly struggled to free himself. With a huff of impatience, the red-haired lord pulled him closer until faces were inches apart. "I will not tolerate disrespect, Joachim." He growled, his teeth baring just enough to flash the tips of his razor-sharp fangs. "Perhaps, a lesson in manners would do you some good. I detest harming you but you left me no choice. If you wish to debate this matter further, by all means, do so now…if you can."

His grip upon Joachim's delicate throat tightened, giving the newly turned vampire one last jolt of pain before dropping him on the floor like a dead animal. Joachim coughed and heaved to breathe. The stiffness in his neck gave him the feeling that he had just been put through a vice. "_Walter_," he wheezed, gasping for air as one of his hands grasped the other vampire's boot and clung to it. "…you…enjoy…tormenting me…don't you?" He reached out, his claw-like fingernails scraping across Walter's boot as he grasped onto it desperately, his eyes widening as a surge of rage and dread overcame him.

"No, I do not." The glint of satisfaction in the vampire's dark, starlit eyes betrayed his calm response. Even then, he caught the faintest hint that some part of Walter was human enough to sympathize with his plight. In a dull murmur, the red-haired lord added under his breath. "Do not make things difficult, Joachim. I will forgive you for your impertinence this time because you are newly turned. However, it would be unwise to test my patience again." In an attempt to calm him, one of his gauntlet-covered hands grasped the young vampire by the arm and lifted him onto his feet with such strength and speed, one may have thought the young man weighed nothing at all.

So much had happened to him in such a short amount of time. The trauma of what he had endured made it hard for him to compose himself. Nevertheless, he gave the other lord a stiff bow, his white hair flowing gracefully around his ashen face. Between gritted teeth, he forced a smile and replied coldly. "Forgive me, _Lord Bernhard_ for my sharp tongue. If you require anything – _anything_ _at all_ – do not hesitate to ask. Your wish is my command, oh great master of darkness."

For a second, a tint of red flashed in Walter's eyes, whilst one of his hands appeared ready to cuff the young man across the face. His hand promptly seized him by the collar of his robe and dragged him so close that their faces nearly touched. In a dark whisper, he answered. "Be careful what you offer me. I may just take it – whether by your will or not."

"There is nothing more you can do to me that has not been done already." Joachim gave the lord a serious look, his eyes returning the warning with a familiar red tint. However, next to the larger, more powerful lord, he appeared delicate and weak. Despite his powers, he did not stand a chance. He knew his new 'comrade' and 'lord' was capable of killing him as easily as a fly.

A mocking laugh escaped his throat when Walter lightly shoved him back, though even that gentle gesture made the young man slam roughly against the wall behind him. "Oh, I am certain I could think of something," He remarked as one of his hands brushed back the veil of red hair covering his left eye. His lower lip curled deliberately. "My imagination is rather extensive. Do not forget, I have lived for centuries. If I truly wanted you to submit to me, I would have already succeeded by now. You are not as hard to break as you think." He stepped forward and cast a shadow across the young man's pale figure.

There was nowhere for him to run and no escape. Joachim pressed his back against the wall as hard as he could, ignoring the scraping sound his armor made when it ground against the stone. His pale blue eyes widened again and he found himself unable to move. Walter was so close that he could crush him there like an insect. Though he was not a coward, he was fighting a battle he could not win – at least, for now. Thus, he slunk against the wall, his breath whispering his defeat. "Forgive me."

Walter paused, his dark eyes studying the youth's expressionless face as though deciding whether his apology was genuine. When the young man lowered his head, he stepped back, at last satisfied by his compliance. "Very well," his deep voice replied. "I will let you alone for a while. There are other matters I must attend to. If you decide to wander about, be mindful of the monsters, for they know not who you are and may attack without provocation."

Joachim only gave the other lord a stiff nod in reply. With a smirk still pressed upon his fine lips, Walter turned away, vanishing abruptly in a flash of white light. He waited tensely for a few minutes, his eyes and ears alert in case the other lord had not truly left. However, when the silence remained unbroken he breathed a sigh of relief. Suddenly, more than anything in the world, he wished Catherine could comfort him. But she was in Creightel, far away from him, perhaps still searching valiantly for him. She would never find him as long as he was trapped in Eternal Night. _I cannot bear the thought of Catherine seeing me now, like…this. It would surely kill her. I have already caused her enough grief to last a lifetime. _He was no longer a ruler over his own domain. The thought almost made him wretch inside. _I am no one's slave._ The thought echoed through his mind as he sulked, alone, in the small watery chamber. His eyes scanned the room and locked upon the four other swords scattered across the floor near the doorway. If he could use one, surely five would be even more dangerous.

A tiny smirk crossed his ashen lips as he focused on all of the blades simultaneously with his mind. As a human, he was a swordsman – surely, his talent would only increase as a vampire. The once heavy and awkward swords were capable of becoming effective killing mechanisms if he could master them. He focused his thoughts harder. It was much easier than before since the blood rejuvenated his body and mind. _Come here. _He called to the swords while extending his hand, so that his claw-like fingernails beckoned the blades forward. _I require your services. I am your new master, now, and you shall obey. Rise up. _The remaining four swords shifted across the floor, their metallic blades gleaming in the room's aqua blue light. Joachim's smirk broadened as he began to laugh. A strange, purple glow surrounded his body, while he slowly rose off the floor. It did not take him long to notice that he was hovering above the ground, his feet no longer requiring the floor for support whilst his telekinetic energy kept him suspended. The liberating feeling was overwhelming. He spun in mid-air and swooped around the room, delighting in the fact that he could cross the pools without rippling the surface of the water. It was almost as though his illness was a long-forgotten memory – as if everything, his entire life, never existed. Vampirism had improved him: he was perfected, stronger, faster – and hungrier. His laughter continued to build until he could contain himself no more, his voice crying out a reproachful command. "Cover me!" In response, all five swords rose off the floor and flew to their master, their massive blades pointed downward as they circled around his frail body in a clock-wise pattern. Joachim folded his arms across his chest and calmed until his eyes narrowed upon the swords. _Ah, my beautiful blades, you shall never leave me nor I, you. The power of my thoughts will compensate my body's weaknesses. For, you see, Walter knows neither my mind nor my heart. _

Yet, he was shocked at his own behavior. He no longer needed to walk – his own power allowed him to levitate, freeing him of the restraint that plagued him as a human. Without hesitating, he flew toward the door. The door's light blue frame admitted him beyond the safe confines of the little sanctuary. Pale red moonlight flooded through the great windows lining the left side of the corridor. The white-haired youth moved toward the door at the end of the corridor. Curiosity or perhaps more so, a desire to fight, made him quicken his levitating speed. It was as effortless for him to fly as it was to walk. Nevertheless, on several instances, he nearly lost his balance and fell. He would need more time to practice. _Be still! _The swords aligned themselves behind his back. Whenever he moved, the swords moved as though merged with his body, their five rusted blades completely still. A sickly greenish glow surrounded each of the swords he controlled. Never, not even in his darkest nightmares, did he imagine that he was telekinetic. As his body wasted away, his mind had become powerful and focused, his senses heightened from constant rest. Whatever the source of his powers was, he could not resist smirking to himself.

Before long, he wandered into a large, open room with a circular platform up a small flight of steps. The first thing that caught his gaze was the ominous red eyes of demon's skull carved into the stone floor. Projecting from its skull were two twisted horns like that of a ram. It was a strange, oddly chilling image, which he could not erase from his mind. The room was silent and empty, giving the impression that it was seldom visited. He flew up the steps and looked at the platform, where the sight of five circular pedestals set into the ground greeted him. Without knowing where any of them led, he randomly chose one and floated upon it. Within seconds, the room disappeared in a blinding white light and feeling of weightlessness consumed him.

Joachim found himself floating in the middle of an elaborate theatre. The eloquence of his surroundings stunned him, his pale blue eyes widening from the sights and sounds. Since he was a child, he had heard of great plays performed in some of the Europe's most prestigious theatres. Yet, none of the architecture in human theatres could compare with the one he was in. Lavish sofas and chairs were scattered throughout the entranceway. In front of him was a beautiful staircase covered by an elaborate gold carpet. He descended the stairs and took in the theatre's grand, relaxing ambiance. Candles along the walls lighted the room, illuminating the area even though his improved eyesight did not require it. His finely tipped ears twitched upon hearing strange, operatic sounds drifting faintly in the air.

He traveled through the theatre in a manner not unlike a prince. His pale skin illuminated his sallow form, whilst simultaneously, emphasizing his grandiose appearance. The young vampire's indigo colored robes, elaborate chest armor, and white hair gave the impression that he was attending an important performance – or rather –was a part of one. Although his feet never touched the beautiful carpet, he could not resist admiring the theatre's architectural design. Like the epic, the theatre's grandeur was timeless. However, like the tragedy, unmistakable sadness accompanied its splendor. Many great plays were acted out and never again performed within its walls. Sad arias drifted through the corridors, filling him with longing. The theatre was calling the souls of men and women, ghosts of a long-forgotten past, to return for a final performance. Yet, he knew the theatre would be waiting for eternity, lost in time and beyond memory itself.

He loved every moment he spent within its lonely walls, secretly desiring to comfort its sorrow with his presence. There was no doubt in his mind Walter must have loved the theatre even more than he. His lord's artistic taste astonished him. How many plays had Walter seen throughout the centuries? Mortals did not have eternity to uncover the mysteries of faith, love, and life itself. Life was spontaneous and mysterious simply because it was so brief. Now that he would live forever, he wondered if over time, he would begin to lose his fascination with life and death. Neither existed for vampires. The theatre allowed him to glimpse into Walter's mind. It marked a time that had come and gone, like many things he imagined Walter had experienced since his conception. For a vampire there was only beginning. Joachim realized that his life would be like an unfinished book – always writing in its pages, so that even when it seemed he had done everything, more blank pages would be waiting to be filled. Life without death was like a story without an ending.

His brief feeling of freedom within the theatre made him slightly relaxed, though still alert. After a while, he entered what appeared to be the main area of the theatre – the stage. Ahead, short steps led onto the wide and empty wooden platform. Surrounding the circular room were balconies decorated with red curtains matching the curtains around the stage. His thoughts immediately drifted away from grand plays and mournful arias. A gasp fled his lips upon sighting a familiar figure sitting on the edge of the stage. Though he wanted to smile, he suddenly stopped and covered his face with his hands, his nail digging into the sallow, lifeless flesh. He trembled for a moment, barely able to speak the name that made his heart ache. "Catherine!" The young woman was seated upon the edge of the stage in her amethyst dress. Her hands were placed delicately on her lap and her jade eyes glinted enthusiastically. He could not withhold the torrent of emotion that flooded through him as he looked at her beautiful, smiling face, and into her deep emerald eyes. Coils of her thick, black ringlets fell passed her smooth shoulders and down her sloping back as though she was a goddess of the night.

"Joachim! I've been waiting for you here, at last you have come!" She cupped her hands together upon sighting him, her voice light and strangely airy as she continued. "What happened to you? I was looking for you everywhere. You always make me worry…"

He felt his cheeks flush under the vibrancy of her gaze. He drifted closer to her, his eyes locked upon her, whilst the longing in his heart seemed to finally rest. Nevertheless, he tried to hide his face, masking his shame behind the curtains of his silky white hair when he replied. "Catherine! Don't look at me or approach me! Walter…he did something…terrible to me. You must not-"

"Joachim, please, everything will be alright. I am here and I do not fear you." She extended her hands, her delicate fingers reaching out for his embrace while she whispered. "I know what happened. It does not matter, now. I searched for you so we could be together again, just the way we used to be, before all of this happened." Her eyes were so pleading that, for a second, his desire to go to her overcame his hesitation. Without thinking, he flew toward her, tears brimming in his eyes as he sought the warmth of her embrace. More than anything, he wanted her to rid him of the coldness in his heart, of the feeling that he was turning into someone he no longer knew. It was so very easy for familiarity to envelope him since everything in the castle perplexed and terrified him.

His lips verged on the form of a smile until he levitated within a few feet of her. Catherine did not rise to greet him but instead, remained where she sat, grinning at him. Upon seeing him hesitate she called out again. "Joachim…I thought you missed me?" A look of dejection spread across her face while she blinked at him like a lost little lamb. "Are you not happy that I am here? I came here to take you home again. You do not belong here."

"…Home?" Joachim croaked, his breath hitching in his chest from the forbidden thought. Though his flesh was nearly white, he somehow seemed to turn a shade paler. "Catherine…I cannot go back. It is too late. I am…no longer…human…"

"Don't say such things!" She protested, her voice straining on the verge of breaking into sobs. The sight of her sadness made his heart wrench inside his chest. An intolerable pain filled his very soul as he lowered his head, casting his eyes upon the floor while she continued. "It is never too late as long as we love each other."

The truth in her words made him accept her embrace. He pressed his cheek against hers, running his fingers through her thick, ebony hair, immersing himself in her presence as if meeting her for the first time in a thousand years. She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck and pulled him closer. He felt her breath tickle his ear as he captured the sweetness of her lips upon his cold, lifeless ones. All the pain inside him seemed to disappear in the familiarity of her kiss and touch. Her hands groped through his hair as she let out a quiet moan, seeming lost in the bliss of their long-awaited reunion. Promises of starting anew, running away somewhere, to a place no one could find them. He fantasized suddenly waking up in bed with Catherine by his side, her emerald eyes shining with joy after a long night of watching him while he slept, ensuring his sickness was driven back so another day could be his, and another moment together secured. _Is this all a dream? _How long had it been since he last saw her? Did time truly stand still for vampires? It seemed so, for she was exactly how he remembered her before the fateful night Walter took his life, body, and soul. But there was one thing the vampire lord could not take…

He kissed her deeply, overcome by a will to smother her with the fragile emotions he had concealed for so long. A strange urge filled him the longer they embraced. A ravish desire to have her, and everything she was, for himself. The need ached through him like an open wound and compelled him to accept the gentle caresses of her roaming hands. He felt her fingers brush across his thigh to his groin; all the while she continued to kiss him, unhindered by the coldness of his touch and the silence of his heart. A low moan vibrated through his throat from the aching hardness pressing against his britches, their white color allowing her to witness his arousal and need. However, something within him screamed for him to stop even though his body demanded gratification. This was unlike him. Indeed, he remembered he had once been rather prudish when it came to physical love. Now, he was not even a human being. How could she not care about what happened to him? Why would she not want to leave right away and escape before Walter noticed? As if he had been slapped him in the face, he pulled away from her, ignoring her started cry as he looked at her directly in the eyes. A sinister chill ran through his entire body. Though the woman's eyes bore a resemblance to Catherine's, the lust and malice within them revealed a treacherous intent. With a snarl, he summoned one of his swords with his mind, sending the blade directly into the chest of the creature he held. "Who are you?" His pale form darted back as though in the presence of something vile and diseased. It disgusted him, reviled him, and made his soul scream in agony and rage. He had been deceived…so very easily.

"Well, you're very observant. It isn't often someone can see through my disguise. I had hoped to get a little more insight on you since you made me curious. However, you're equally as curious as I am, so I see no need to continue looking like this." The creature's eyes darkened and she began to change form before his eyes. Joachim watched non-blinkingly when her amethyst colored dress changed into black a black corset, exposing the protrusions of large, supple breasts. The bodice split down to her hips at the front. Shoulder length blond hair fell down her back, and her bare arms were tattooed with elaborate vine-like designs. Protruding from her back, however, was an indication that she was far from human. Leathery bat-like wings folded around her seductive figure. As she looked upon him with her dark, glimmering eyes, her lustrous ruby lips formed a slight smile. "Ah, you're quite a handsome young man. I think I'm going to enjoy this." The creature's voice was no longer Catherine's – it had taken on a bold, presumptuous tone.

"Put some clothes on." Joachim muttered, looking away. "Foul temptress! You appeal to man's lowest desires. I will not waste my breath talking to you."

Not once did she show any sign of being insulted. In fact, it seemed quite the contrary – she shook a finger at him playfully as her feet pranced across the stage's worn floorboards. For a moment, she appeared to take on the façade of an actress – and like everything else about her, he guessed that her conduct was as well. "Oh don't be so unfriendly!" She replied. "I'm impressed that you're not so easy to fool. I can tell your feelings for her are still strong, which means you must be newly turned. Walter is hardly as interesting. Time, it seems, has made him hide his heart." She flicked her hand with an obvious wink. "I didn't even bother to wait for that accursed bell to ring like Walter commands me to. I'd rather see you while you're still here, especially since I was getting bored."

"My affairs are of no concern to you, whatever you are." Joachim replied coolly, daring her to approach while his swords whirled rapidly around him. "I'm not interested in talking to a demon. I shouldn't be surprised that Walter locked you in here."

The creature's smile did not disappear, though a tone of irritation was detectable when she answered. "Walter has always been extremely moody. One moment he can't keep his hands off me, the next he rebukes me. Being with him has become tedious since he always asks me to take the same form every time we copulate. I am so weary of Walter's fantasies…my current form is far more seductive thanthat _woman_…"

Joachim gritted his teeth together, his hands clenching into fists. "I do not want to know Walter's intimate preferences!" He spat, his lower lip curling. "I wandered in here by mistake and I shall be leaving now. Unless you have a problem with that?"

"What if I do? You've stumbled into my domain, and since I've got nothing else to do, I might as well toy with you for a while. It's very rare for anyone make it this far inside my theatre, especially a human." She puckered her lips and cackled. Her loud voice rang through the room and resounded off the walls as she flew toward him, her wings outstretching while one of her hands pulled Joachim's embedded sword out of her chest. A thin line of blood ran down the shaft of the blade while it obediently returned to protect its master.

Joachim fixated his gaze upon her slender form, watching her movements carefully. "If you come any closer," he warned. "I will slice you to pieces. I am not a human anymore. I am…what you see before you. I will have nothing to do with you!"

"Such audacity! My, my…I know what you are – your Walter's newest pet. I don't think he's ever kept one alive long enough to be turned into a vampire, though. I know why he chose you." Her eyes glittered with amusement. It was obvious that their conversation was about to take a darker turn.

Joachim's patience was wearing thin. The pain of realizing his deception ran deep, almost to the point that he was tempted to battle her. However, he knew that a creature such as she, despite her beauty and sleek form, was more powerful than she appeared. Perhaps, regrettably, more powerful than him. "Shut up! I am not his 'pet', and it's none of your business to meddle in my affairs." He hissed through gritted teeth.

"It's not fair." She replied, deliberately ignoring his objections. "I'd like to see you again...when Walter isn't keeping such a watchful eye upon you. Who knows, perhaps you and I-"

"I would rather spend an eternity in solitude than a single night with you." Joachim sent one of his swords colliding into her chest again. His attack drew blood, but it left no mark on her skin.

"How rude!" she scolded, placing her hands on her hips as the sword dislodged itself and returned to its master. "Normally, I'd kill someone for trying that…but you are too handsome to make me angry. Of course, Walter would also not approve…"

Her voice trailed away until he huffed. "Why do you linger in this deserted theatre?"

She wound a lock of her golden hair around her finger, twisting it as she replied coyly. "You should be grateful you can go wherever you choose, whilst I sit here in this dusty old place waiting for Walter's guests."

"I'm not free to go wherever I want. Walter refuses let me leave this castle." Joachim sneered, hating the reality of his words. "If it were not for him I would have left this place already. You are a Succubus – the demon that deceives and destroys men who make love with you."

The demon winked at him again, her smiling lips confirming his suspicions. "Yes, that is true. However, the undead – like yourself – are unaffected by my powers. Oh, how I would love to disrobe you and touch your cold, naked flesh…it would be simply divine! All of your previous lovers could not match my ability to satisfy you."

Joachim looked away from the creature that sought nothing but lust. It was not human and did not possess a human heart. A succubus was incapable of providing any man with real love and compassion – only temporary satisfaction, which forced the unwary victim to return for more until only a shell of his soul remained. It was a chilling thought to behold, one that made his voice sharp with disgust. "Don't even imagine it. I know your treachery and seek no pleasure from you. Even if my soul is damned, I will not betray the woman I loved – _love_ – so easily."

"You're quite a vampire." Succubus remarked, her eyes narrowing. "Love is a noble concept. I am sure your feelings for her will pass since men are fickle by nature, after all. I've been here for a quite some time and my entertainment is restricted to only the men who brave death by coming here. Yet, despite their proclamations of love, none have been able to resist my temptations. All the men who have come here – from the lowliest serf to the bravest knight - have died naked in my arms, their lips still pressed against my own and their bodies moist with perspiration after copulating with me. Though I disguise myself in the image of their lover, if their love was true, they would have sensed my deceit. Perhaps, as you did…" Her eyes twinkled and he folded his arms across his chest from her words, hearing her add in almost spitefully. "It's a shame Walter has not found a worthy adversary. All men are weak and seek nothing except physical pleasure." She beckoned him, licking her lips while her body drew nearer to him. "I like immortal beings; they have such a wondrous taste. Why restrict yourself by retaining the feelings you had when you were human? If she saw you as you are now, I doubt she would love you or even touch you."She tossed her golden hair, her eyes glimmering with a convincing look of sympathy and concern. "Come here…I do not fear you. Let me comfort you, embrace you, satisfy you…"

The second she tried to wrap her arms around him, Joachim recoiled from her, his eyes widening. "Don't you dare even touch me with those filthy hands!" He spat, his eyes burning with so much fury that he could barely withhold the desire to slice her head off with one of his swords. "If you speak about her again, I swear I shall cut you into pieces and serve you to Walter on a silver platter!"

"Are you so certain about refusing me? I'm the pinnacle of every man's desires, and I guess if you weren't a vampire you'd be far easier to tame…but I like challenges." She smirked persistently, bending her body forward in a mocking bow in order to expose the contours of her breasts.

Joachim covered his eyes with his hand. "I merely wandered in here, and I think I will show myself out."

"Oh don't go yet, I was just getting warmed up! Really now, for a vampire you certainly don't possess Walter's charisma. He must have seen something in you, but since I can't get the pleasure of watching you die, I'll have to let you leave." Her smile faded into a slight frown, but Joachim ignored her and levitated toward the door.

"I don't require you to _let_ me do anything." His eyes blazed again, locking onto her when he looked over his shoulder. Succubus flapped her wings toward him, and cupped her palm to her face while her lips parted and gracefully blew a few magically conjured red rose petals in his direction. Joachim waved a hand and swatted them away, growling under his breath from her gesture.

"So brave too! Pity I have to let you go, but you're always welcome back here in case you change your mind." She winked at him again and vainly wisped back strands of her blond hair. "You don't know what you're missing. That woman who seems to be close to your heart isn't anything compared me-"

"Shut up!" Joachim sent his swords toward her with their pointed ends directly at her, piercing into her flesh until she gasped and staggered back in the air with flaps of her bat-like wings. He breathed heavily and bared his fangs when the swords returned to him and stilled around his back. His eyes narrowed and glowed red again, piercing upon her form and beckoning her to speak. The Succubus fell silent, her face a mask of bewilderment. Her words sent tremors through his body, and his fists shook until he stared at them and managed to still his body in place, where he levitated gracefully over the carpet in the hallway. "Stupid wench. I should not have come here." His words escaped through his lips in a low mumble as he dashed from the stage and hurried out of the room. The sound of the succubus' laughter followed him as he went.

In his haste, his mind lost its focus, and his body suddenly dropped onto the floor like lead. A spurt of blood escaped from his mouth when his skull smashed against the stone floor. An explosion of bright, white pain flooded his vision as he lay on his front, gasping and moaning in agony. The incident on stage distracted his once focused thoughts. Fortunately, he had injured himself in an empty hallway instead of a monster-infested room. He cursed under his breath as he channeled his powers. Within moments, his body rose into its upright position in the air. Tears brimmed in his eyes and threatened to fall. A hope, once bright, was suddenly extinguished. Never in his life had ever felt lonelier than at that moment. The demon's cruelty stung him worse than a thousand curses. For a moment, he actually believed he had found Catherine again and that the nightmare was over. The pain he felt inside his blackened heart reminded him that it was only the beginning. He carried his sorrow and grief with him in death, remembering the pain he felt when everything he loved was lost.

After some time passed, he returned to the small blue sanctuary to rest. Blood continued to trickle down the cut in his lip as he sat near one of the watery pools, gazing emotionlessly at his strange, vampiric reflection. His soft, ivory hair, curtained around his face as he wiped away the tears staining his lifeless flesh. Before he could begin to think, a started gasp escaped his lips and he leapt back when Walter's crimson reflection suddenly appeared next to him in the water. "Good evening," The vampire lord greeted him with a coy smile, his eyes lingering upon the young man as he leapt to his feet, his swords whirling around him protectively. "I was looking for you. I noticed you visited the theatre."

"Yes." He answered, his pale blue eyes refusing to look at Walter. _Be still! _The swords ceased their whirling and aligned themselves behind his back. He did not want to deal with the vampire lord. Without adding anything, he turned away in disinterest, his shoulders tensing as he floated beneath the stone angel, lost in his own thoughts.

Walter, however, was persistent. A twinge of concern permeated through his deep, enchanting voice. "It seems you have learned to control your powers," he added delicately. "How clever of you to make use of those swords. Centuries ago, vampires butchered humans with those very swords. Your telekinetic abilities are rather impressive. I did not expect you to master them this quickly-"

"Stop flattering me, Walter." Joachim snapped, refusing to look at the other lord as he folded his arms across his chest and lowered his head. He looked at the gated windowpanes where the red moon glowed like a demon's eye in the night, making him wish that he could see the moon's natural pure white light instead. The only thing he felt was a dull hunger and a painful throbbing in his face.

"Interesting…" Walter mused, ignoring his insolence. Joachim felt the other vampire looming behind him and flinched when one of his gauntlet-covered hands touched his shoulder. His pale blue eyes gave the other lord a wary glance, though the softness in Walter's voice was somehow comforting. Walter's dark eyes traced the young man's expression, quickly sighting the crimson blood that trickled down his chin from the deep gash in his lower lip. The red liquid contrasted against his smooth, ashen visage. "What happened?" He asked, his voice tensing.

With a sigh, Joachim glared at the red-haired lord as his fine lips formed a sarcastic sneer. "What does it look like?" A chilling silence returned his remark. He was almost certain Walter would chastise him for his impoliteness.

To his surprise, the other lord merely sighed. "I see. That wound shall heal within the hour. Vampires regenerate on a much faster scale than humans do."

"I suppose I should consider myself fortunate." Joachim replied, his eyes shooting daggers at Walter when he looked over his shoulder. Even though he was dangerously close to his lord, he did not refrain from adding. "And praise you for tainting me, Walter. Allow me to show my _gratitude_." Without hesitating, he whirled and backhanded the other vampire across the face. The movement was so quick and unexpected that Walter staggered back, gasping in surprise while his once dark eyes radiated bright red. Joachim summoned his swords as his eyes narrowed. In response to his mind's command, the swords flew toward the other lord until they embedded themselves into the stone floor, their tall, glinting blades surrounding Walter's great frame. His lips curled into a frown when Walter quickly regained himself.

For a moment, the demon's expression wore a look of absolute fury while the razor-sharp points of his fangs gleamed in the room's aqua glow. Although he had struck him with all his might, his attack did not even leave a mark upon Walter's visage. A low growl vibrated through the other vampire's throat during the brief silence that followed. He waited tensely in anticipation of his lord's wrath – ready and willing to receive it so that he would lose himself in the pain.

However, the rage in Walter's eyes quickly turned into delight, whilst his growls ascended into a proud laugh. The amusement on his face stunned Joachim, who could do nothing except listen to him reply. "You think you can harm me with your pathetic power? You are so very naïve, Joachim. Nevertheless…" Walter paused to compose himself while the smile he wore broadened. "I suggest that you reconsider your approach. I can tell you are growing weak again…and since you do not know how to hunt…I am the only one who can sustain you. Perhaps, I should leave you for a while and let your hunger grow. The pain you would feel then would be far worse than any punishment I can inflict."

A look of horror spread across Joachim's face and his eyes widened, transfixed upon the knowing look in Walter's eyes. Yet again, his impulsiveness had gotten the better of him. He could almost feel all the color he had left, if there was any at all, drain from his face. He clutched a hand to his chest and backed away, his body stiffening under his lord's scrutinizing gaze. "No!" His voice croaked against his desire to remain composed. "You _can't_ leave! It is your fault I need blood in the first place! Don't…leave me…"

The pleading look he wore seemed to make the other lord even more determined to disappear as suddenly as he came. However, Joachim felt a light-headedness take hold of him, and his frail body suddenly crumpled onto the floor. One of his hands clawed against the stone, his black nails scraping against it as he tried to force himself up while reaching out to the other lord with a likeness to a child. Walter merely stood and watched, his amusement growing at the sight of Joachim's pathetic appearance. The vampire lord had an ability to predict exactly when the young man's strength would leave him. Without the nourishment of his lord's blood, Joachim realized that he was at the mercy of death. He writhed in pain, his voice crying out and echoing off the room's narrow walls. It felt like he was dying all over again, though his agony seemed unending. After a deliberate pause, Walter approached and grasped him by the jaw, forcing his head up so their eyes met. A flash of disgust and pleasure appeared upon his elegant visage. The vampire's glossy hair splayed against his high cheekbones and ashen flesh like fire, his voice a deathly whisper. "Though I should leave you here, begging on the floor, I will intervene. Does it surprise you that I pity you, Joachim? I will give you my blood if only you would remember my kindness. If I did not want you to live, you would be dead already. And…if I wanted you to suffer…" His voice trailed off into an uneasy silence. Joachim already knew the ending to that statement without needing it said.

It occurred to him, despite his agony, that Walter had simply replaced one weakness for another. Even though he was not ill, his dependency on blood was capable of killing him just the same. His fear and horror consumed him with a desire to be released from it all - and warm, thick blood, promised a temporary escape. However, a pang of guilt flooded through him at the thought of living off Walter's blood like a parasite. His hunger exceeded blood alone. Indeed, he could not resist the chance to reciprocate in his own, special way. Walter's face was so close the opportunity was evident. Without hesitating, his hands flew to Walter's neck and unhooked the clasps on his collar. For a second, Walter seemed to take the sudden gesture as an attempt to harm him. His muscular body stiffed, ready to knock the young creature away from him in an instant. However, he peeled back the fabric, hungrily seeking the pallid flesh beneath. His lips wandered to the base of Walter's sloping neck as his eyes glazed, fascinated by the other lord's beauty. Walter was truly mesmerizing whenever he was close enough to feel him, and everything he was, against his own body.

There was something wrong with what he was doing, though, and he knew it. Something inside him was forever stained by lust, pride, and envy. He wished more than anything to know the source of Walter's god-like strength and power. The fact that the vampire lord could create eternal darkness was incredible. If he could not have Walter's power, he would have Walter instead. It was a compromise with the potential to become dangerous over time. Nevertheless, he ignored his thoughts as he kissed Walter's neck and relished the sound of his lord's pleasured moans. The softness of his kiss was merely a prelude to the pain he was about to cause. Without warning, his fangs punctured through, causing a river of red to flow across the once beautiful, milky white flesh. Blood gushed down his throat and entrenched him in a sensation of bliss. Walter's form trembled, barely able to sustain the wound the white-haired youth deliberately inflicted. He knew if he did not do something to ease his lord's pain, it would be impossible for him to feed for very long. His hand slid down his lord's armored chest to the vulnerable organ between his legs. Warning thoughts encroached upon his efforts. _I have betrayed her, now. If she saw me, she would not recognize me. I am not certain I would recognize myself…a slave to blood…and Walter's passions. Damn him…! _His warped expression concealed the rage bubbling within his tainted soul. A hardness pushed against the silky black fabric in response to his caressing hand. Somewhere, deep inside himself, he retained his stubbornness and pride. _Though you may derive pleasure from using me, be careful, Walter, not to become the one who is being used…be very careful, indeed… _

He could feel his lord's neck tensing under the pressure of his fangs, threatening to make him release his hold. Joachim's stroking hand became more forceful, while his desire to quench his thirst drove him to continue pleasuring the other lord until he was satisfied. The vampire's dark eyes glinted, fighting back the urge to let the white-haired youth bring him to a climax. He felt Walter's hand seize him forcefully by the hair and yank his head back, ripping the fangs out of the skin with the swiftness of a viper. He gasped in pain and surprise, his pale eyes widening under Walter's powerful grip, while his scalp felt like it would detach from his skull. The red-haired lord's lips curled as he rasped, his voice hoarse with pain and rage. "_Enough_!" As though he was a rag doll, Walter tossed the young man across the room. Before Joachim could even consider what was happening, his back hit the wall, the impact winding him so that he slumped against it. Walter rose off the floor, his elegant face warped by fury. "You have pushed me too far, Joachim. Your greed for blood exceeds your necessity. Do not _ever_ do that again, or I swear to you, it will be the last time you do."

In Joachim's disoriented haze, he could not comprehend what Walter meant entirely. However, it shocked him to realize that, somehow, the other lord was aware that his passion was far from genuine. A faint, though audible hint of dejection was detectible in Walter's voice. He could barely believe it until his gaze met Walter's starlit eyes. Despite Walter's attempt to keep him unaware, a terrifying storm raged beneath his calm, dark gaze. As though aware of his perceptiveness, Walter's eyes turned a shade of red. Within moments, he was consumed by a desire to sleep, his mind lulling his thoughts into blackness. The last thing he saw before his eyes closed was Walter standing over him, looking down at him, a gentle smirk pressed across his lips. Victory was his – this time.


	16. Chapter 16: Memory

**Author's Note:** I decided to update again because I had this chapter laying around and wasn't sure where to put it. It didn't really seem to fit in anywhere because it is a flashback chapter (and kinda long). However, I still think more needed to be said about Joachim's relationship with his father (an important figure in this story despite the fact he's dead) as well as his struggles with the class-system. Hopefully, this chapter will make sense and answer why Catherine initially refused/could not marry Joachim earlier on. Since memories themselves are not necessarily thought of (psychologically) in order, please forgive the fact that Joachim's past memories focus on various aspects of his adult/childhood in random order.

This is a **_FLASHBACK_** chapter that took place shortly before Joachim's father returned to Armster manor (unexpectedly) and died. I don't mean to ruin the flow of the story but I felt it was necessary to get away from the Joachim/Walter conflict (in this chapter) and focus on Joachim's past. So, if any of you are curious about his father (who, by the way is really messed up/crazy after spending the majority of his life fighting in the Crusades) read this chapter. I will get back to the Joachim/Walter conflict next time I update (which will be soon, in case you are eager to read it)

Special Thanks

**LateNiteSlacker:** Thank you for reviewing, as always :) I really appreciate your constructive comments and the fact you like Catherine. You might be happy to see her make another appearance in this flashback. As for the Walter/Joachim thing, it's pretty complicated. I always envisioned Walter cutting Joachim some slack at the beginning and gradually becoming tyrannical. I totally agree that Walter needs to 'tow the line' with Joachim a bit more, and I assure you, he does. The whole Yaoi thing has a purpose. I have no intention of making Joachim forget about his love for Catherine (that would be OC for him) and its hard for me to label his thing for Walter as a "relationship" because it isn't one...and if it is...it certainly isn't healthy. Later on, Joachim is going to try something really stupid that will send Walter over the edge. I can guarantee you, Walter is not going to let him get off easy for it, at all.

**Rahar Moonfire:** I hope this update came fast enough for you! Even though its a flashback, I really want to emphasize character development and felt Joachim's past needed more elaboration. Don't worry though, the next chapter gets back to the main storyline, and I plan to add it by the end of this week :)

**AzariyaBelmont:** Thank you for reviewing :) Even though Walter isn't in this chapter, I hope you like my attempt to flesh out Joachim's character a bit more. Joachim's "rebellion" against his father parallels his constant desire to defy Walter - he hates authority or attempts to control him.

**TheGhostisReal:** Thank you for reviewing! I decided I needed to take a bit of a breather from the Joachim/Walter intenseness and added this chapter. If I just kept focusing on Joachim/Walter the dynamics between them might not be as entertaining. So I hope you like this break chapter. I am glad to know I characterized the Succubus properly. She was always an interesting addition to Castlevania and she says some pretty important things despite her attempts to seduce Joachim.

**Chapter XVI**

**~* Flashback *~**

Joachim remembered that last night well. It happened before his father was summoned by the Vatican to command a company of knights in the East. A party had been organized in honor of his father's leave. Large silver flags hung from the ceiling, which was his father's favorite color.

It was not unheard of for people to exclaim how his father once galloped toward an army of heathens numbering in the thousands. At first the enemies assumed his father had dared to venture alone, watching the noble draw his sword, his long flowing white hair cascading like unfurled wings around his delicate face. Anneliese once told him such a story, speaking earnestly about the man as he imagined his father ascending toward the enemies with grace rivaling God's greatest archangels. In a final moment of glory, the enemies backing away when his father's massive armies appeared and charged into battle, screaming the magnificence of his name.

Such a tale presented itself into his mind that fateful evening, in which he watched his father's slender figure walk silently among his guests. Everywhere he went, people would turn to admire him. It was rare for his father to acknowledge his guests, and although he appeared inhospitable, many tolerated the cold welcome out of sheer curiosity. Indeed, Joachim did not know a majority of the guests his father invited, especially since the man never invited anyone from Creightel. The sting of arrogance within Lord Zaeviean's eyes was a stark contrast against his pale young son, who was used to being overlooked like a pest.

It was only a few weeks previous to the event that he hoped Catherine would attend. Her presence would have relieved him considerably; however his father would have been far from amused to see her mingling with the nobility. Regardless, he cleverly produced a plan to ensure she would attend. When the invitations were being sent away, he managed to steal one and copy his father's fine handwriting – if people thought he looked like Lord Zaeviean, there would be no difference if he wrote in the same cursive. Along with the invitation, he had gone through his mother's wardrobe and taken one of her finest dresses. During the days that followed, he listened to Catherine's excitement over receiving such an expensive gift from his father as a token of 'gratitude' for caring for his ill son. Catherine was too poor to afford such an extravagant gown. Lilac suited her perfectly. If his mother could see Catherine, he hoped she would have been proud of the woman whom he loved. If his father saw Catherine in such fine garments, perhaps he would condone her worthiness at last. However, his inexperience with the outside world, politics, and the class system, was proven that fateful evening…

Joachim looked at the full moon beyond the hall's massive windowpanes, watching its pale form rise into the black night sky. He wondered whether Catherine would come to the event. It was, after all, exclusively for nobles. The soft sound of instruments began to play as he stood by himself, his back turned upon his father's guests, enchanted by the serene nightscape beyond the hall. A swift glance over his shoulder brought his attention to the fact that people were beginning to dance. Many young ladies trotted about in hope of finding a young male dance partner – and potential husband. His pallid complexion was enough to ward away any woman who thought about approaching him. Joachim broke his gaze at the night when he turned to face his father's guests. It was a matter of courtesy for him to ask someone to dance – he knew, after all, his father would expect it. The young man walked around the hall in search of a lady to give him a smile or a curtsy of acceptance, yet despite wearing new robes and stunning armor, all of the eligible women wanted nothing to do with him. Some even became desperate and picked men far older to avoid him.

The women all wore elaborate dresses and hairstyles that must have taken a great deal of time to perfect. They were the daughters of his father's fellow lords and ladies, accompanied by sons smugly discussing venturing eastward, as well as eyeing a few ladies of their own tastes. Not a single young man bothered to notice the frail being strolling about the hall. Joachim despised the sight of overstuffed lords, and skinny young ladies grasping their arm, no doubt willing to put up with anything for the sake of financial security.

"Lord Zaeviean-" The young man turned at the sound of the voice, especially when a hand touched his shoulder and alerted him. The moment his slender figure turned out of confusion, a lady with pale blond hair and inquisitive blue eyes made him make a nervous bow. The lady seemed no less nervous than he, and quickly stepped back, wanting to disappear into the crowd. "F-Forgive me." She murmured. "You are his son, are you not? I did not intend to insult you, I was merely-"

"Are you looking for my father, Lady Hawthorne?" Joachim could not help but reply coldly. "Do not apologize. It happens quite often." A taut smile crossed his lips, and with an uneasy nod, the blond hurried away. The young man waited till she was out of sight before he clenched a hand into a fist, his eyes narrowing. Subsequent to his action, he staggered back, feeling a tremor of anxiety cover his rage as his head lowered. "Father." The word barely parted through his lips, his weak body feeling somehow smaller under the cool glare of his father's blue optics.

The man had approached him so silently he had not the time to prepare himself for Lord Zaeviean's quiet insult. "Why are you wandering about like a lost sheep, boy?" The lord hissed, drawing Joachim's gaze to his father's scowling expression. Never before had his father approached him during a party, though the motive behind it was becoming clearer each passing second. The man brushed aside his silky white tresses with his gauntlet, allowing them to fall down his back in thick, coiling layers. His voice was a harsh whisper, yet Joachim had no difficulty hearing it over the noise of the guests. "I expected you at my table ten minutes ago. Do not embarrass me in front of my guests, lest you want me to keep you locked in your chamber for the rest of the evening!"

"That would be unnecessary, father. I am not a child." Joachim lowered his head from feeling his father's glare intensify. "I did not know the banquet was starting so soon."

Lord Armster's lips curled. "You will accompany me this instant, and I do not wish to hear a single word escape your throat."

Joachim did not comprehend the meaning behind the statement before his father moved toward the massive banquet table. If he did not go he was certain his father would chastise him in front of the guests. Like a dutiful son, he reluctantly followed the man's sweeping form through the crowd. The countless eyes of the guests were staring at him, no doubt darting between him and his father to compare the weak youth to his father. Indeed, his thoughts were confirmed when he passed them by, hearing their sarcastic comments burn against his backside.

My Lord Armster's son, has grown so much stronger since childhood. Perhaps he shall have enough strength to wield a pen and paper instead of a sword and shield!

As always, he ignored the insults when he sat down near his father at the head of the banquet table. The table's fine cherry wood surface was covered by a white cloth and cluttered with plates and goblets. For a while his father's eyes were averted, allowing an uncomfortable silence to ensure before Zaeviean's cool gaze locked upon his son derisively. "Tonight is a very significant night for you, Joachim." The calm voice made the youth draw back, however he made an effort to question his father's vague statement.

"What do you mean? You are the one being honored; I am merely attending because I am your son. I would not dream of stealing attention away from you, father." Joachim returned his father's glare with a scornful grin.

Lord Zaeviean's composed façade feigned, though Joachim fell silent from his father's abrupt reply. "Be silent! You are nearing twenty years of age, and I have come to a decision about what is to be done with you."

"And what is to be done, then?" It took a great deal of nerve to challenge his father's icy explanation. "Will you have me sent away to rule some distant region no one cares for, so that you shall never have to look upon me again? Or do you intend to have more of those so-called doctors perform cruel experiments upon me like an animal?"

A dark shadow crossed his father's elegant visage. The banquet table was large enough to seat two people comfortably beside each other at its head, but never once had he cared to ask his son to sit by his side. After looking at the empty chair next to his father, Joachim swallowed hard, remembering such a place belonged to his mother and was never occupied by anyone else. Nevertheless, without casting his son a single glance, Zaeviean rose from his chair – the gesture immediately gathering his guests around the table.

Joachim watched how all listened to what his father had to say, yet he could not help but follow in their awe, feeling his heart shatter from the words that fled his father's lips. The lord's gaze fell upon the women of noble birth, allowing Joachim to realize the reason why his father addressed the crowd.

"My son shall reach the age of twenty this September. Any woman who wishes to court him may approach my table, and any father who wishes their daughter a privileged life and strong family name may speak with me in confidence."

The proposal created the sounds of astonished murmurs to filter through the crowd of guests, whilst Joachim felt his hands grip the arms of his chair. "What?" He choked the word so loudly a few of the guests noticed the wave of apprehension consume his once expressionless face. "How could you do this to me, father?" he continued, feeling what remained of color in his cheeks disappear. "I am not something you can just barter off on a whim to any woman who appeals to you! Have I not the right to choose for myself?"

The trembling young man fell into an idle silence as his father resumed his seat at the table, his voice lowered in a warning reply. "For almost twenty years I have been burdened by a weak son," he began, his cold blue eyes nearly freezing Joachim into ice. "You owe me your complete obedience. Just as you are unable to care for yourself, you are unable to find a suitable wife. You are fragile and your life shall be short. Thus, I must preserve the honorable lineage of our family without further delay. Twenty is more than old enough for you to marry. Had you not been so ill, I would have found a wife for you years ago."

Joachim's head lowered, his lack of will to fight the matter unveiling the shame he carried from his father's truthful words. He watched Lord Armster take a sip of wine from his goblet, resting his chin in his hand as women began to line up in anticipation of gaining the lord's interest. It dismayed Joachim to realize fathers would be offering up their daughters as if they were mares at an auction, and only the finest would attract the attention of the church's most formidable crusader. Yet, another thought burned in his mind just as prevalently.

_How dare my father try to pick a wife for me! I am capable of loving a lady without his interference! Rather than ask my opinion, he simply treats me as if I am one of the stallions he puts up for stud. All he wants is for me to marry and lie with a woman…as long as I made her with child, of course…_

The humiliation made the color return to his cheeks, practically burning his flesh a shade of bright red. Not to his surprise, the first woman in line was Lady Hawthorne, who had fled from him earlier that evening. Joachim had to use all his courtesy to resist sneering at his father while he watched him wave her forward. The lady approached taking dainty steps, her hand extending politely to the lord's son, until Joachim obliged and took it in his. The moment his lips kissed her fine flesh, he felt his insides wretch; and a shudder flow through her body from his touch. It seemed both he and the lady were disgusted by one another, yet he heard his father's calm and quiet voice proceed with a series of questions. The questions were not even worth his attention, for they were typical inquiries about her family line, and her ability to play a role as wife of a future lord. He almost did not hear his father address him before sending her off. "Look at this example of a woman, boy. Have you anything to say? She is more than good enough for you, though her Turkish bloodlines leave much to be desired."

The lady's lips twitched nervously, and a glint of injury appeared in her crystal blue eyes. With a low snort, he turned his face away from his father's contemptuous glare, whispering a calm reply under his breath. "Unlike you, father, I am not interested in petty details. Why do you bother asking my opinion? Do whatever you like; she is not going to be your wife, after all."

Lord Armster gave him such a dangerous glare he wondered whether or not he would strike him for his imprudence. The white-haired youth shrank back in his chair, trying hide from his father's reproachful glare. "You would be fortunate if any woman married you, my son." Without delay, his father ordered her away, forcing Joachim to watch the lady recede into the crowd. Once she was gone, Joachim fell still upon listening to his father remark. "I suppose you shall reject any woman I send before you. You are nothing but an ungrateful, spoilt little child, whom deserves nothing of a woman's love. What woman would love a creature like you of her own will?"

Joachim's face was transfixed by shame, for he could not imagine anything satisfying to say in response to his father's observation. He felt his heartbeat almost stop, his eyes fixed upon her lovely face and the black coils of her ringlets bouncing alongside her merry steps. A part of him wanted to voice his awe at seeing her beautiful figure bring his mother's dress no disgrace, yet the enraged gleam within his father's eyes jolted him to the idiotic result of his plans. Not only did he not expect Catherine to bombard her way through the crowds of other women, but she seemed to have no idea how she got there – unknowing the reason behind the delighted whisperings of the noble ladies.

Joachim felt his entire body tremble from knowing her bright emerald eyes were looking at him, unaware of the dangerous situation he had placed her in. A terrible guilt knotted inside his stomach as he watched his father's fine lips and vigilant eyes survey the young girl intently. Catherine stepped forward so boldly that the other ladies in line whispered until Lord Armster's cold voice addressed her. "Are you Catherine Corydon?" The lord's eyes pierced through her, never leaving her face when she raised her head.

Catherine placed her delicate hands in front of her, nodding to confirm the question. "Yes, milord. For years, I have visited your manor to see your son, Joachim-"

"I am well aware of that." A scowl began to form across Zaeviean's face. Without warning, the lord rose from his chair, the motion so silent yet deliberate Catherine's emerald eyes blinked in surprise. Joachim turned his head away as his father began a series of questions. Although he expected his father to treat her with the same cold courtesy as the previous lady, he noticed an extra hint of despise within the man's voice. "I am not surprised. Where were you born?"

Catherine's eyes widened in surprise. "Pardon, milord?" She took a hasty step back, her gaze fleeing to Joachim for support, however the young man's throat had long since stolen the sound of his voice. Joachim continued to sit in his chair, not daring to move, but undergoing the most severe form of distress imaginable. While he was trying to decipher a solution, he heard his father's voice die into a lowered hiss. "Answer my question. Where were you born?"

"…In Creightel, milord." Catherine's voice was so soft it was barely audible.

"I want to know the place, not the village." Lord Zaeviean's scowl deepened, professing the rage slowly seeping into his voice.

In a matter of seconds, Joachim stood up from his chair. "Why are you berating her?" He knew he had stepped out of line once again, and was indifferent to the fact his father cast him a sharp glance before returning his attention upon the lady.

"Why does it matter to you, boy? You told me yourself you do not care, and I am free to ask what I wish the lady whom seeks our wealth and name."

Joachim shook his head and sank back into his chair. "You have no right to speak to her that way!" Regardless of his objections, his father continued to scrutinize Catherine mercilessly.

By that point her eyes cast themselves upon the floor, and her shoulders sank back when she gave her reluctant answer. "…I was born in a wagon, milord. Though if you please, what is all of this about-"

"What did you say?" Lord Armster asked purposely, causing Catherine's face to pale as if she was being addressed before a judge. When she gave no immediate reply, Joachim jumped at the sound of his father's gauntlet hitting the surface of the table. Zaeviean's brow knit impatiently, his icy gaze possessing a kind of intentional hatred that made the girl's lips tremble. "Either answer me, or stop wasting my time."

"I was born in a wagon!" She covered her face with her hands, trying to hide the vibrant flush that colored her cheeks. It seemed the lord had not an ounce of time to spare so she could regain her composure, preferring to confront her in front of Joachim's horrified expression. The youth could barely remain seated in his chair, and felt his breath hitch at the sound of his father's relentless inquiries.

"A wagon?" Lord Armster exclaimed, and though his voice was rather quiet, the words were loud enough that the surrounding guests murmured to each other. Steely blue eyes clashed against her emerald green, soon immobilizing the young woman under his callous examination. His hand flicked aside strands of his long pearly white locks, whilst his lips curled into a sardonic smile. "I see. A woman born in a wagon, a daughter of wanderers…" The glaring lord mused aloud. "Who are your mother and father? What family lines do they boast?"

It appeared all of her joy had been ripped from her soul, for her head lowered again as if wishing to vanish out of sight. Despite the beauty she radiated in the extravagant lilac dress, her form seemed to wilt under the lord's ice-like words. "My mother and father never boast anything. They are humble people, who work hard to earn a living-"

"What status do they posses?"

"None, milord. They are gypsies under your rule…"

Lord Armster's dark blue eyes flickered. "Is it not true that your mother was a Turkish peasant? You are aware Turks are the enemies of my Romanian subjects. As for your father, he is nothing more than a gypsy. Tis' true he serves me occasionally, but my domain has gained considerable power, and I need not the aide of a simpleton any longer." Another murmur filtered through the crowd, which made the lady stir uneasily and lower her head. Joachim felt his heart pounding so loud against his ribcage his breaths felt short, especially after watching a forced smile spread across Catherine's trembling lips.

She withdrew a calm breath, her hands fidgeting with the long skirt of her dress, and her green eyes blurred by watery tears trying to escape. "Tis' true, milord. I do not see how this matters, for I only wished to pay my gratitude to you, since I have never attended a party of such grandeur until this night."

"Indeed." Lord Armster replied, at least unveiling the condemning hint within his smile. Joachim felt Catherine's eyes looking at him, pleading for him to intervene. It had already occurred to him her situation was his fault, already the guilt of his selfishness was burning a hole through his heart, and the pain throbbed so greatly he could not gather the strength to overcome it. The very image of her trembling lips was enough to kill him, if not the escalation of his father's rage.

The lord's lips and stance stiffened, following the sound of chafing metal filling the air when his fingers clenched into fists, his cold blue eyes staring at the woman's lilac colored dress. "Perhaps I have cause to wonder how a gypsy half-breed could call herself one of my guests. Look around you – you stand among baronesses, duchesses, countesses and other ladies of proper breeding. Now, please explain how a gypsy was invited here?"

"I cannot, milord." Catherine's voice again died to a whimper of a reply. "Except to say that like your other guests, I received an invitation from you a fortnight ago."

"Bring it to me." The white-haired lord extended his hand, and in a demure fashion, she withdrew the small white card. Lord Armster snatched it away and flipped the card open, his dark blue eyes scanning the handwriting inside before crumpling it in his fist. Joachim shifted in his chair, trying to hide the tears in his own eyes beneath the lush curtains of his shoulder-length ivory hair. Despite his attempt, his father continued to cast indignant glances upon him, already detecting the fact his son's skin turned a shade more pallid than usual.

After a rather lengthy silence, the lord's voice lowered to a whisper that teetered on the barest thread of composure. "You think I wrote this? Foolish mongrel, this invitation was forged!"

Catherine's face almost turned a shade whiter than the lord's hair. Her hand flew over her mouth in horror, yet the tears refused to break free from her eyes, though her voice choked the tremors of mortification coursing through her once joyous mood. "How could this be? Why would someone forge an invitation? What have I done to deserve this cruel treatment from you, milord?"

"I do now owe you an explanation. You are nothing more than gypsy, and that alone should explain why you are unwelcome here." Zaeviean's hands folded in front of his smooth visage, his cold eyes once again glancing at the youth seated near him at the table. Joachim's eyes met those belonging to his father, but he did not expect his father's next inquiry to be directed upon him. Without warning, the lord tossed the crumpled invitation across the table. Joachim's throat constricted when the mangled object skittered in front of his motionless figure.

With a hiss so spiteful it could have made a snake slither away in fear, his eyes narrowed upon the despondent young man. "My dearest son, would you have any knowledge of how this invitation came into existence? Few of my servants are literate enough to read or write, unless there are any you can think of?"

Joachim had to use all of his willpower to keep his jaw from dropping open. His eyes glanced from his father to Catherine's fading composure and then to the guests silently crowding around the table. If he spoke the truth, there was no telling what his father would do to Catherine – and him – in front of the guests. Scandal would reap through Creightel faster than wildfire. Not only that, but Catherine…would never forgive him. Although his soul screamed to throw away his future and quite possibly his inheritance, the composed words that left his throat contradicted his urgency to contravene. "I know nothing of this." He whispered. "I felt too ill to read or write when the invitations were sent away. I know not who is to blame for this indiscretion."

"I see." For a moment, Joachim thought his father would persist, since the man's eyes seemed to see into his soul like it was made of glass. "I cannot imagine how this could happen. Not many could manipulate my cursive. Unless of course, there is a person here who wishes to insult me by blending gypsy filth with noble blood. "

"If that is true milord," Catherine's voice had since lost composure. Tears trickled down her smooth face, and she brushed them away with her hand. "Was this lovely dress…a forgery of someone's vindictive intent as well?" Her emerald eyes blinked away the salty liquid, but she backed away from the sight of the lord moving toward her. Zaeviean's steps were stealth-like and his eyes were locked upon the gown she wore, a mere prelude to what was about to unfold.

Curtains of long, silky white hair cascaded against Lord Armster's contoured cheekbones, his eyes unveiling a spark of indignation as he whispered dangerously. "A marriage between an Armster and a gypsy would be a travesty! How dare you attempt to sully my good name! Tis' also the fault of my unruly son, who seems to take a liking to women who are unworthy of him. I imagine, someone wished to ruin my reputation with this scandal."

Her shoulder was quickly restrained in his grip, and when Catherine pushed against him to free herself, the seams tore down and across the garment's front, unveiling her smooth shoulder blade and the top part of her left breast that had been concealed beneath it. His steel blue eyes held no remorse amidst her terrified screams, instead responding to her pain with the back of his hand that cuffed her across the face and sent her careening against the marble floor. "You wretched thief! How dare you wear my wife's dress!"

Catherine's green eyes were transfixed upon him in the most visible form of fear, watching the man's hand draw the deadly blade from it's sheathe. All around the scene the guests gasped, but no one dared to flee, for their fear of the sword was as great as their fear of the man who wielded it. Like a demon, the lord's dark blue eyes blazed. "I should cut you down where you lay, you worthless wench! If you think you can deceive me by claiming this dress was given to you-"

A flash of metal gleamed, and then another, followed by the sounds of Joachim's voice screaming as he blocked his father's blow with his sword. he screamed so loud people in the crowd began to flee from the sight of him. He could hear the sound of metal upon metal chafing, listening to sharp metallic clinks of his father's sword clashing against his own. Nevertheless, Joachim kept his stance poised, using all the strength in his arm to keep the sword away from Catherine. He gazed into his father's unblinking eyes while the man's blade strained against his own, threatening to break his sword in half if he so much as moved. "What right do you have to condemn her?" he screamed. His father's expression had calmed, and not a flicker of hesitation proved such desperate measures were at all effective. "Its not her fault! You have already humiliated and scorned her! That is enough, father!"

Silence. His father's cold eyes stared upon him, and on a whim the lord could have cut him down then and there with a single swipe of his blade. For many moments Joachim expected to feel blood pouring from his chest, or perhaps an instant death if his father chose to sever his head from his neck. He heard Catherine's crying ringing in his ears, but he prepared himself for what was to come, waiting for that single blow to end his miserable existence once and for all.

It never came.

Instead, he watched his father's sword slide away from his. The whole scene ended in less than a minute, yet he fell still under Zaeviean's hardened gaze, and heard a deep sigh part through his father's lips. Then, without a word, the lord's steps echoed through the great hall – leaving all standing in a silence that could have rivaled mourners at a funeral.

* * *

That night never ended in his memory, especially what came after, whilst he brooded within his chamber alone. Catherine left without bidding him farewell – in fact she left without speaking a single word. From that day on they never spoke of what happened, and he did not know if she considered him responsible for the humiliation she endured.

His brooding was disturbed when he saw his father standing in the doorway of his chamber. The young man had not bothered to shut the door; since his pain and regret were so visible he was unable to hide it from anyone. A single tear dripped down his cheek, and he turned his head listlessly to look at his father's cold expression, awaiting whatever came next with silent acceptance. "Joachim." He heard his father's deep voice fill the room like vicious gale. "Tell me. Was all of this you're doing?"

Without voicing a reply, he made a slow nod, and lowered his head when his father removed the sheathe from his back and gripped the hard encasement in his hand. What he heard his father say next made him fall completely still. "You lied to me…in front of my guests. I presumed t'was so. Nevertheless, I have decided whom you shall marry. If you think a heathen gypsy is worthy of our name, you are gravely mistaken, my son."

Never before had his father punished him, for all too often he was either on his deathbed or too frail to endure it. All of it seemed to matter little anymore, since after a short silence, he heard a loud crack and he hit the floor in a spray of blood. The youth screamed under the immense pain flooding through his back, and managed to look up long enough to see his father's arm raising the sheathe he clutched in his hand. Not a second later another blow struck the young man across the back, but Joachim made no effort to defy it, he only let his tears fall when his father's rough hands stripped him of his armor and robes, leaving him naked on the floor as blow after blow was brought down upon his body. Once he tried to turn away from his father's unmoved expression, but the man seized him by the hair and struck him across the face with his gauntlet. Splatters of blood covered the floor while the youth writhed and screamed until he lost his voice.

Almost twenty years of hatred finally broke his father's calm demeanor, and the lord seemed to be lost in his rage, his eyes looking down upon the naked youth pitilessly. The stench of blood filled the room alongside the repetitive sound of flesh being struck, and in a short time Joachim's face was smeared by blood, and welts began to surface on his backside. Between beating him, he heard his father's voice rasp. "You will live long enough to bear me an heir, Joachim! I have arranged for a marriage between you and Lady Hawthorne. Indeed, tis' a match I have chosen personally, for love is hardly enough of a reason to marry. Love does not exist in marriage."

Joachim gasped when a particularly hard blow hit him on the back of his shoulders, and another struck him across the side of the face below his cheekbone. Clots of blood dripped from his quivering lips, as his nails dug into the stone floor in a feeble attempt to control the pain coursing through him. He continued to listen to his father's words.

"I was more than worthy of your mother's love! I gave her everything, even a son, but t'was not enough! _That devil took her from me_…"

Neither spoke a word, but Joachim fought to turn his aching neck so that he could look upon his father's face – the man who beat and scorned him. What he saw was a face identical to his – but his father's face expressed absolutely nothing of the gentleness of his son. Without a single word, the lord turned away, whilst placing the blood-covered sheathe upon his back. Trickles of blood from the sheathe stained the silver fabric, smearing itself across the lord's back as he left the room.

Shortly after his father's departure for the crusades, Joachim fell ill and was on his deathbed. Catherine had noticed the prominent bruises and gashes on his face and back, yet when her attentive nature caused her to ask, he found not the will to tell her. He simply pretended to be sleeping, his mind preoccupied by his humiliation and guilt. Not even three days passed before he made a miraculous recovery, fighting against his wounds so well none were able to tell it still caused him agony whenever he moved, but his solemn expression showed none of the turmoil his body continued to undergo.

Yet, he did not expect more pain to greet him when his father unexpectedly returned. Upon his death, Lord Armster took his secrets with him, and forever stained his son with his cruelty.


	17. Chapter 17: Games

**Author's Note: **A few reviewers mentioned that the dialogue in the flashback chapter didn't really fit and sounded too mature. So, I made a few changes to the flashback dialogue and re-uploaded this chapter. I hope the dialogue in the flashback is more suitable for their ages. Be sure to send me a message if anything else seems out of place in this fic, as I'm always willing to go back and re-edit chapters to improve the story. :)

**Chapter XVII**

After he awoke again, he was grateful to find himself in solitude. He brushed a hand across his forehead, pushing back stands of his white, glossy hair. The room was completely silent. The only sounds he heard were the dull whistling of the wind through a hole in one of the windowpanes. Not to his surprise, the red moon hovering in the black night sky greeted him instead of the sun. _How long have I been asleep? _The question echoed through his mind. The moon did not change its position in the sky to indicate the passage of time. It would do him little good to stay in the small sanctuary. Despite the peace it gave him, he would have to explore the castle and find a way of escaping it. Perhaps Catherine had given up searching for him? Unless he met her again, she would believe the vampire had finally claimed him and drained him dry. The village would fall into chaos without a lord ruling over them. Of course, his vassal would gladly inherit the responsibility, but the old man was ill equipped to deal with rioting peasants.

Joachim sighed, for he could not escape without Walter knowing. Nevertheless, something was tugging at his mind. He could feel the other vampire's presence even though he was alone. The feeling was so powerful that when he attempted to resist it, a horrible headache overcame him. He gasped and pressed a hand over his forehead, shutting his eyes tightly from the throbbing pain encompassing his thoughts. Unable to stand it any longer, he swept to the door and admitted himself into the hallway beyond in hopes of finding relief. Yet, the painful throbbing in his mind continued. The young man grimaced, his skin paling whilst he levitated toward the entranceway of the castle. Something was urging him to go there – or more likely – commanding him. His eyes narrowed as a low, perturbed growl vibrated from his throat. _Damn, Walter…_ Despite his rage a twinge of fear ran through his veins. Although the vampire could not control his actions, like an angler luring its catch, it felt as if he was being dragged toward him. He followed the silent call from his master, resigning himself to obey for the time being.

Within minutes, he reached the castle entranceway, and the pulling feeling relented at last. His thoughts were clear and free of pain. His pale blue eyes scanned the entranceway. Not even a moment later, he sighted Walter standing upon the balcony leading to his wing of the castle. The other vampire's thick crimson hair splayed around his face and neck whilst his dark, glittering eyes smugly locked upon him.

A look of displeasure crossed his ashen face as he folded his arms across his chest, hissing to the other lord like an angry serpent. "What do _you_ want?" A smirk crossed Joachim's lips as he floated toward his lord, ignoring the bright red gleam that appeared in Walter's eyes. With a low chuckle, he leapt into the air and landed upon the balcony beside him. His elegant, indigo robes starkly contrasted with the other vampire's heavy red armor. Joachim gave his lord an indignant glare, waving one of his delicate hands whilst he continued. "If you think I will let you look down at me, you are gravely mistaken, _master_. Contrary to what you think, I am not your little marionette. Even though you enjoy tormenting me at your leisure, there are other things I would rather be doing at the moment."

"Such as?" Walter's deep, ominous voice filled the room whilst his lower lip curled into a sneer.

Despite the other vampire's threatening look, Joachim bared his fangs, unwilling to relent. "Anything except talking to you. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly."

Without warning, Walter's gauntlet-covered hand snatched Joachim by his armor. Before he could even let out a cry of surprise, the other lord cuffed him roughly across the face. A spurt of blood flew from his gaping mouth as his body crumpled forward, writhing in pain. His hands madly clawed to free himself from Walter's vice-like grip, the tips of his long, dark fingernails digging into the smooth metal encasing his lord's hand. The futility of his effort seemed to strengthen the red-haired lord's impatience. After restraining him for a moment, Walter lifted the young man into the air and tossed him over the balcony railing. Before he could even gasp in surprise, his head and back hit the floor with a dull, sickening crack. A pool of blood seeped around him over the floor. Amidst his blurring vision, his eyes hazily looked up at Walter, who was peering down at him from above.

The mocking tone within Walter's was unmistakable as a dark smile crept across his lips. "Tis' _very_ clear now that you need to learn when to hold your tongue, Joachim! I do not take insults lightly." He huffed, giving the fallen young man a scathing glare. "The noble life has made you bereft of humility. If you choose to disobey me, I am more than willing to demonstrate the consequences."

Joachim forced himself to levitate in spite of his pain. He was lucky he had not broken his back from the fall, though he imagined Walter could have if he had wanted to. His face wrinkled whilst he wiped away the blood with his sleeve, hating the sight of it, but even more the sight of Walter's form towering above him like a Roman emperor. The dull ache within his limbs made it difficult for him to levitate properly. He lurched forward, nearly falling over whilst blood streamed from the side of his head, matting his hair and trickling across his ashen cheeks. With great difficulty, he managed to lift his head and look up, refusing to dignify his lord's statement with a response.

Walter's smirk broadened, evidently impressed by the young man's tenacity. "If you at least _attempt_ to be cordial, Joachim, your stay in my castle will be much more enjoyable. I require you to complete a simple task for me. I want you to bring me a lady from Dalwood."

His eyes stared at Walter with uncertainty, and he felt his throat tighten until he managed to rasp.

"What business do you have with her?" After he forced the words from his throat, his hand flew to the side of his face, attempting to wipe away the blood dripping from the base of his chin. Although he managed to wipe it away, some of it smeared against his cheek as if painted there by the demon's cruelty.

"A woman named Lady Viola Rohesia, has caught my attention." Walter continued, ignoring the young man's pained expression. "I have been playing games with humans for centuries and will use her as collateral."

"_Games_?" Joachim's voice sharpened at the sight of his lord's mocking smile whilst he hissed. "How can you toy with human lives as though they are nothing?" Despite the harshness of his words, he relented slightly, for fear of angering Walter further. It was increasingly difficult for him to speak. Blood filled his mouth when the liquid streaming from his forehead slipped between his parted lips. The sour taste made him gag.

"You have no sense of pleasure, Joachim!" The red-haired lord remarked impatiently. "You know all too well the trials of love. It is that tie that I use for my particular game, a game in which I always prevail."

Joachim's throat tightened and he found himself unable to respond to what he heard. Never had he imagined kidnapping someone in order to subject them to cruel forms of amusement. It reminded him of the gypsies that traveled through his village, who often dragged with them dancing bears and the like. The poor beasts were shackled and forced to entertain a crowd of spectators at their own expense. If he participated in Walter's game, what would become of his already tainted soul? His eyes widened as a cold shudder reaped through his body. He feared that something within him would erode and die. His pale blue eyes cast themselves upon the floor as helplessness and shame overwhelmed his self-assurance. Failing to comply with his lord's command would inevitably lead to conflict. He could not stand the thought of losing to Walter if their disagreements turned violent again.

One thing the vampire said, however, struck a nerve within his soul. Though dead, his throat constricted while he contemplated the consequences of Walter's games. How many men and woman had died for the sake of his entertainment? Lovers separated, hearts broken, and lives destroyed. If he obeyed, he was merely perpetuating his own personal tragedy upon others. The innocent humans he kidnapped would hate him; however, it would be nothing compared to how much he would hate himself. Indeed, he knew the cost of love, for he had paid for it dearly…

With an expressionless face, he returned his glassy gaze to his lord, who continued as though the young man's indecision and pain were irrelevant. The pleased glint refracting within Walter's eyes was unmistakable. "I want you to go to Dalwood and fetch her for me. Apparently, the lady is in love with a young duke from a neighboring village. Like most men in love, he will come to Eternal Night in search of her. You will find Lady Rohesia in Rosewood Manor, exactly where she should be at this late hour."

Joachim levitated toward the drawbridge, momentarily stopping to question one last time. "What do you mean? Surely, it will be daytime beyond the border-"

A chuckle sounded through the area, causing a chill to sweep down his spine as he felt his frame weaken from Walter's words. "Apparently, you are unaware of the how much time you have spent within these walls. It has been a month since I turned you."

"_What_?" Joachim stopped dead in place and whirled again to face him. "That can't be! I remember everything vividly because it happened merely days ago! You are lying to me!"

The other lord shrugged and rested his chin in his hand, leaning over the railing like a king sending a gladiator into battle. "Why would I lie to you about something so insignificant?" He asked, rolling his eyes impatiently. "The passage of time means nothing to a vampire. Go now and complete your task. I will await your return." The moment he drifted across the drawbridge of the castle, he heard Walter emphasize sternly. "Bring the lady back _alive_, and_ unharmed_."

Alone in the darkness, he sighed and looked ahead at the worn road intertwining deep within the forest surrounding the castle. Joachim felt the cool air of the night whip across his face and ruffle his hair. As he continued through the forest, only the full moon's dim reddish glow provided him the light he sought. He allowed one of the blades to rise up and turn red before he sent it into the foliage covering the overgrown pathway. It wasn't until the blade cleared a clump of brush away that he looked out into an open field where the red glow of the moon was replaced by mystical white. At last, he was beyond the border of Eternal Night.

* * *

Within a short time, he reached the small village. Dalwood's streets were deserted since most of the occupants had returned to their homes. Despite being alone, he moved cautiously and ducked into alleyways to avoid attracting attention. It felt strange to hide as though he was a criminal. His regal appearance and elaborate clothing was a strong indication of his status and wealth. It occurred to him, though fleetingly, that Dalwood was close to Creightel. As he leaned against the wall of a house, his pasty flesh gleaming under the pale moonlight, he was tempted to abandon his task. His icy blue eyes pierced through the shadows of the darkness, condemning it with every fiber of his being. Like a fallen prince, he longed to return to his manor, to the warmth of the hearth in his solar room and the comforts of his bed. So very suddenly, the village he ruled and the manor he called home were alien and distant. His teeth gritted together whilst a surge of rage shadowed his face. What was he now? He could not call himself a lord because he was no longer human. Something inside him wept from the loss consuming his shattered heart. He had no choice except to persevere. If he returned to Walter empty-handed, the fiend would undoubtedly punish him.

Yet, he knew what he was about to do would make him condemn himself. He could not bear to think what Catherine would say if she saw him, lurking in the shadows like a demon of Lucifer's will, waiting for the perfect moment to ruin another soul. He placed his hands over his face and lowered his head, hiding his face behind the curtains of his ivory hair. His pale skin seemed to emanate a frightening, graceful beauty. If he could, he would have wept in the shadows until the sun's golden light burnt his unholy flesh to the bone. However, some terrible force, or perhaps a darkness growing within him, urged him to complete the wicked task. He composed himself and raised his head, holding it high as a steely glint appeared within his pale eyes. His unholy form radiated a dim, purple aura whilst he floated through the streets like a specter of death, his robes fluttering behind him as he went.

It did not take him long to find Dalwood's manor. Indeed, it was not difficult to notice the large, stately building from the modest houses scattered around it. The manor was not as elaborate as his, though he admired its beautiful stonework and grand entranceway. He floated up the manor's steps, taking his time until he reached the doors. Then, as though his presence was quite ordinary, he knocked lightly upon the door's wooden surface. Within moments, it swung partially open as a man's voice called to him from within. "What brings you to Rosewood Manor-" A servant's face appeared between the crack in the door, his lips pressed into a polite smile until his eyes fell upon the creature floating over the doorstep. The servant's mouth opened to emit a scream, but no sound could part before one of his swords plunged through the man's chest. Blood spattered into the crisp night air, droplets sprinkling across the vampire's ashen face as the man stumbled back and collapsed dead on floor. For a moment, he paused on the doorstep, feeling the warm, red liquid trickling down his cheeks and catching its scent. An uncontrollable urge to taste it filled him, nearly making him tremble with hunger until he wiped the blood away with his hand and flicked it onto the ground.

A terrible feeling overcame him, his eyes widening as he looked at the red pool surrounding the man he had butchered like an animal. It was easy to overlook it if he did not think about his identity. Even if his urges nearly killed him, he refused to drink his victims' tantalizing fluid, knowing it would stain him forever as one of the damned. Nevertheless, he could not deny the throbbing hunger made his fangs long to puncture human flesh. It shamed him to no end. The sight of death, bloodshed, and violence made his face contort into a desperate, though ultimately cold, look of despair. His lips curled into a scowl whilst his eyes surveyed the inside of the manor where the maiden chosen by fate – the source of the devil's amusement – lay sleeping, unaware that death was literally at her doorstep.

His eyes glinted in the dim torchlight of the manor, which was decorated with fine carpeting and furnished with marble, oak and mahogany. The warmth inside the building played in stark contrast to the icy gleam in his eyes. It did not take long for another servant to appear, curiously looking for the man he had just murdered in the doorway. He did not move until the servant's glassy gaze met his, locking upon him in morbid fear, and then glancing briefly at the five swords aligned behind his back. After withdrawing a trembling breath, he looked away whilst his mind commanded the once dormant blades into action. _Kill him._ Within half a second, one of the massive swords flew toward the servant, angling sideways, until the side of its metallic edge slit the man across the throat with a single, merciless swipe. Blood streamed from the man's jugular, his voice releasing a sickening gurgling noise until he slumped back against a wall, falling silent as rivers of blood drained from his body.

Inevitably, the noise prompted more servants to appear. Three women and two men came running down the corridor toward him, though the women immediately fell into a fit of terrified screams as the men stopped and backed away from the horrific sight. One of the men, in spite of his horror, managed to shout in rage. "Dear God, what have you done? You fiend!" He could not decide whether to admire the man's tenacity or condemn him for his stupidity. At first, he hesitated, his pale eyes frozen upon the human being in surprise. For a moment, he considered knocking him back with his powers, though before he could concentrate enough the man charged, raising the sword to strike him. Within seconds, his five swords punctured completely through the man's body and spattered the floor and walls with blood. Joachim watched the man's last breath as he gasped, his form buckling under the impaling blades until they withdrew from the body and let it fall.

The stench of the fluid was overpowering. He had to maintain every ounce of his will to stop himself from falling to his knees upon the floor and lapping it up like a savage beast. His hands trembled until he clenched them into fists, forcing the instinct to drink it out of his mind. A haze clouded his vision as he looked at the corpses strewn across the floor. _What have I done? _He placed his hands over his face as the horror of it all filled his wretched soul. It did not seem real to him, at first. _Surely…I…did not have to do this… _A rational voice inside him tried to convince him to turn back, to forego his obligation before the intoxicating smell of death devoured him whole. However, before he could even consider it, he was confronted in a corridor. The corridor's narrowness prevented him from avoiding the man who stood in front of him, looking at him hatefully. The 'man' was merely a boy – perhaps fifteen – with thick, brown hair and hazel eyes. Despite the vampire's empathy, the harshness within his voice defeated it. "Who are you? I do not want to waste my time harming you. If you leave now, I will spare your life. Get out of my way!"

The boy's scathing reply returned his command. "No! I will not let you harm my sister, vampire! You suffer nothing compared to those you victimize and destroy! If you want me to move, you will have no choice but to kill me!"

The boy withdrew his sword, its metallic blade glinting dangerously under the light of the torches lining the corridor. Joachim pressed a hand over his brow. He did not have to kill the boy. Perhaps, he could wound him lightly instead. However, he knew it would be impossible. He could not yet fully control the power of his swords. If he failed to injure the boy properly, his swords were capable of inflicting a horribly slow, painful death. The idea of watching human suffering was too much to bear. A feral snarl escaped his lips as he allowed the central blade to rise up above his head, its greenish light tinting a shade of red to match his glowing eyes whilst he whispered. "Very well, then die." With a resigned sigh, he allowed the massive sword to fly forth, its pointed edge directed precisely at the boy's chest for an instantaneous death. It was the least he could do for the child.

"Weak." He said to himself, straining from the realization of how easy it was to kill. "So pathetic, so hopeless…just as I used to be…but am no more. _Human_." Without another glance, he levitated onward, passing through various rooms until he floated up a flight of steps to a locked door. Joachim waved his hands, his mind focusing upon the mechanisms inside the lock, until it responded with a resounding click. Without even touching the door, his mind forced it to open and admitted him into the chamber beyond. In the distance, he heard the sounds of the female servants screaming for the manor's remaining occupants to flee. Though their terror made him shudder, he was thankful for the fact that it meant he would not have to kill anyone on his way out.

A scream sounded the second the door moved, and upon entering the small room, he saw a woman hiding behind a folding screen. Though he did not know her, her beauty was a strong indication that she was the one Walter commanded him to find. The woman's peach colored dress was lined with white lace along the sleeves and neckline, allowing him to sight her easily within the darkened room. Her large green eyes widened at the sight of him. "Who goes there?" She cried, her eyes flashing with fear while her long, strawberry blonde hair cascaded down her back.

He drifted the room and his voice softened when he answered. "Do not be afraid, I will not harm you…if are Lady Viola?"

"Yes, that is I! What do you want from me, _vampire_?" her voice, despite confronting him, relented as her eyes fell upon his deathly form.

Joachim stilled his swords behind his back and bowed, his ivory hair curtaining around his smooth, regal visage. Despite his attempt to show respect, he saw her face contort into a mask of rage, mistaking the gesture as a cruel attempt to mock her. "I am Joachim Armster." He introduced calmly. "You must come with me. There is no choice in this matter…for either of us…"

He swallowed hard when she backed away from him, pleading softy as the terror in her eyes escaladed. "Please stop! I have nothing wrong, why must you take me away? _Why_? Surely you will not do this, my family has done no ill will toward you. We want nothing to do with your kind!" her lips quivered as tears slipped down her face and over her cheeks. Her eyes imprisoned him within her sorrow and fear, attempting to reach some deep part of him that was still unspoiled, human, and merciful. Before he could even fathom what to say, she persisted tearfully. "Please, I beg you, do not take me away! If you desire money my father will pay you handsomely!"

"I am not doing this because I want to." Joachim sighed, his chest heaving as he struggled to remain composed in front of her. The storm of fear and shame within his heart threatened to break the cold, restraint that appeared across his ashen features. "I swear to you, I will do you no harm. Please, do not make this any harder for me than it already is-"

"For _you_?" She gasped accusingly. For a moment, he flinched in shame, unable to respond until she continued. "Why must you do this? The man I love will kill you if you bring me harm. He will search to the ends of the world to rescue me!"

He took another step toward her, beckoning her to him while attempting to keep his fragile emotions subdued beneath the surface of his unrepentant gaze. The smell of fresh blood lingered in the air, threatening to break his will to defy the urge to consume it. Even in the lady's presence, the urge to kill struggled inside him like a caged beast. If he was not careful, he would plunge his accursed fangs into her neck. With a hiss, his eyes narrowed upon her, scalding her with his rage and frustration. "He will not have to search that far! The lord of Eternal Night wishes to play a little game. You are merely a reward…if the man you love is victorious. Though, I regret, tis' unlikely he will be."

As though a demon possessed her, she flung herself away from the wall and ran toward the door, the sounds of her screams deafening him. His superior speed enabled him to block her path. The flicker of rage and sorrow replaced the woman's tears as her bright, green eyes looked up at his pallid face. For a moment, Joachim gazed back into them, his breath hitching in his chest as her eyes overlapped with Catherine's. He tried to speak but the tears welling inside his heart forced him to suffer in silence. At that moment he was so afraid of himself that he was tempted to release her. The woman's green eyes tortured him with Catherine's memory. If his wretched soul somehow reunited with hers, he hoped she would kill him. There was no telling what the thirst made him capable of if he could not control it. _Forgive me, Catherine…I pray you never see me this way. I am lost, now…if only…I could embrace you without fearing I could harm you…_

Without warning, she lunged at him and beat her fists against his armored chest. The accusing sound of her voice made him fall completely still. His eyes widened in horror whilst he looked upon her, the pain in her voice strangling his words within his throat. "Have you no heart? Do you not care about who you hurt? I will not go with you, for I will never fall into shadow and darkness as you have!" Though her words were valiant, she fell into his arms, fainting under the stress. He lowered his hand to the woman's face, brushing his cold, lifeless fingers across her cheek, whilst his eyes suppressed the tears building within them. The agony she felt almost made him crumple to the floor. Though he had not harmed her, he knew he had the potential to when he held her in his embrace, his pale eyes drifting upon her sloping neck. The familiar powerful, hating urge filled him as he stared at it, hungrily picturing the veins running beneath the warm flesh. He clamped his teeth together and suppressed it. Nevertheless, his will to deny it was weakening. If he did not depart immediately, he would give in to it at last, rewarding his tainted desires with the sweetness of her blood. Without looking at her, he swept out of the room and hurried through the deserted manor, taking his victim with him into the darkness beyond.

Unsurprisingly, Walter appeared on the balcony overlooking the entranceway the moment he returned. The vampire's glossy red hair splayed around his neck and shoulders whilst his armored form leaned over the balcony's stone railing. A slight smile pressed across his lips the moment their eyes met. "So, you have returned at last." The demon's dark, glittering eyes broke their gaze to glance at his bloodstained swords. Small, red droplets trailed behind the white-haired youth, sprinkling across the stone floor. "It seems you have learned how to kill," he added with a mock look of astonishment. "Did you consume their blood?"

Joachim gave the other vampire a scathing look as his lips contorted into a scowl. He hated the manner in which Walter looked down at him like a god overseeing one of its minions. The moment Walter saw his bloodstained swords, his delight in them was unmistakable. "No," he answered firmly, his icy eyes stabbing at his lord when a surge of loathing filled him at the thought. "Enough blood was already spilled."

"Tis' a pity it went to waste…" Walter replied, flicking his hair. As though the young man were a child, he shook his head, as his once lighthearted voice became serious. "You cannot resist the urge forever. As noble as you are, in the end, you will give in to it. Killing is part of our nature."

"It is not part of mine!" He snapped, his lips curling as he looked up at the red-haired lord in disgust. A flicker of rage seeped into his eyes as he held the woman closer to him, unwilling to let her go, though fearing if he did not he would betray himself. He hated how the other lord tried to contradict him. Though he was struggling to resist, his eyes burned at the fact that his will would be broken, eventually. The longer could control himself, the better chance he had of escaping the immoral influence of the red-haired demon. With a sigh, he hissed under his breath. "I have committed terrible crimes for the sake of your entertainment!"

"This is not the first time you have slain humans," Walter retorted, whilst a flicker of red flashed within his starlit eyes. "Do not forget the three men you hanged. I know you enjoyed watching them die, waiting for their last breath to be drawn whilst their bodies twitched in agony."

Barely able to control himself, he hissed between gritted teeth. "_That_ was different. You know why I had to kill them!" Within seconds, his expression was consumed by pain and grief. Tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to fall in spite of the prideful way in which he raised his head. The icy look he gave Walter had a will to freeze him where he stood. It was a dangerous thing for his lord to discuss. Indeed, he swore to himself, if Walter dared to continue he would rip the creature's throat out with his bare hands. Rage threatened to consume him whilst he bared his fangs. Though it was powerful, the anger within his wounded soul was drowned by his grief.

Walter's harshness abruptly softened. "Yes…I know, Joachim." He paused, diverting his gaze from the pale youth for fear of breaking the young man's fragile state of mind. The red-haired vampire closed his eyes, his head lowering alongside his consoling words. "Though you pity humans now, in time, you will detest their cruel and condemnatory nature. You above anyone should hate them for what they did to you."

Joachim sighed and looked away, his eyes straining in a bitter attempt to conceal his grief from his lord as he continued.

"Humans will hunt you as they have hunted me…"

"Hunt you?" Joachim spat, unable to imagine the thought. A smirk crossed his lips when Walter's eyes returned to his, their gaze meeting when he added coldly. "What chance would a human stand against _you_? You have never lost to anyone-"

"Do not judge what you do not know!" Walter interrupted, ignoring the surprised look on the young man's face when the flicker of red returned within his eyes. Joachim was about to berate him further until he noticed the tips of the other lord's gauntlets grinding against the railing. The elegance in Walter's face was overwhelmed with sorrow. The suddenness of his lord's pain made the white-haired youth fall into an uneasy silence. He felt Walter's eyes focus on him for a long time, studying him carefully, though he knew not why. Without continuing the subject, the vampire lord's attention diverted to the unconscious woman in his arms. "I see you brought what I asked for," he began, his voice filling with renewed confidence as a smile forced its way across his delicate lips. "Give the lady to me."

"What will you do with her?" Joachim pulled the woman closer to his chest, his eyes narrowing upon the red-haired lord. His body stiffened upon hearing the vampire's calm demand. He was not accustomed to obeying anyone, especially Walter. "I will not relinquish the lady until you tell me her fate."

"The lady's fate is none of your concern!" A low huff escaped the red-haired lord's lips, which curled indignantly at the young man's refusal. "Her lover will come for her. You need not worry about her now."

"Will you harm her?" His body stiffened when he noticed Walter's smile broaden.

The vampire's eyes locked upon the maiden as he raised one of his powerful hands into the air. Joachim felt his lord pull the woman from his arms until her graceful figure floated in mid-air. The red-haired demon shook his head whilst his voice lowered to a deathly whisper. "That depends upon my mood." As though he had told a terribly amusing joke, the sound of his loud, presumptuous laugh reverberated through the entranceway. Walter turned his back upon the young man and exited through the tower door, pulling the woman's floating body with him as he went.

Joachim remained where he levitated, staring after the lord until his sweeping black cape disappeared from sight. He bared his teeth whilst his eyes burned with a will to set the entire castle alight. Walter's telekinetic abilities were unparalleled. Though he envied his lord's power, a chill swept through him when he considered the woman's fate. It was not difficult to imagine what would transpire after Walter took her away. Indeed, as others before her, she was already doomed. Like an innocent lamb, the woman would be slaughtered and her blood consumed by the vampire. It was not enough for Walter to hunt his victims and kill them instantly. A profoundly dark aspect of his lord's psyche delighted in watching them suffer, and in using love and hope as weapons. Now that he was an accomplice Walter found the game even more thrilling. He covered his face with his hands and his nails dug into the cold, unholy flesh tainted and ruined by Walter's bite. A bitter cry escaped his throat as he fell to his knees, agonized and sickened by what he had just done. Though his hands were white and pure, his mind pictured the blood that had covered them - innocent blood that he spilt. Walter's beauty, grace, and power made him long to satisfy whatever he demanded from him. However, he trembled when he wondered how far he was willing to go…and whether it would lead to his self-destruction…

Unable to stand it any longer, he fled the castle and returned to the darkness of the Eternal Night. The red moon haunted the black sky, its eerie light casting shadows across the worn pathway on which he traveled. Though he did not know where he was going, his only wish was to escape from Walter's prying gaze. Fear consumed every fiber of his being as the pace at which he levitated increased. He followed the pathway into the forest until a narrow road near the castle caught his attention. The white-haired youth followed the path, which angled into the trees down a rocky slope, whereupon he came across a modest wooden cabin. Although the building was shabby, a stream of smoke billowed from its open chimney, and its front window illuminated the glow of candlelight from within. He hesitated in front of the cabin, his eyes widening at the thought that someone actually lived in Eternal Night. _What is this place? How can a human live here? Surely, it is impossible-_ He floated toward the cabin curiously, trying to look through the window in hopes of seeing its occupant.

He cried out when a terrible shock threw him back. An immense pain made him writhe on the ground, unable to get up. The powerful shock nearly knocked him unconscious. He struggled to keep his eyes open as he sat up, his vision blurring until he heard the sound of the cabin's door opening. "Who's there?" A man's tense voice confronted him.

Joachim managed to lift his body off the ground. The purple aura surrounding him intensified when his pale eyes sighted an old man standing on the porch. For a moment, he could not believe that the man was human. Without answering his question, his lips curled reproachfully as he hissed in disbelief. "_Who are you_?" He surveyed the human carefully, keeping his distance from the cabin for fear of striking the barrier again. The old man glared at him and reached for the whip cinched to his waist belt. Despite his age, Joachim could tell the man was extremely powerful. The human's skin, browned from hours spent under the hot sun, was smooth and contoured. His hair, whitened by time, was tied into two thick braids resting upon his chest. He wore a short sleeved azure blue jacket trimmed with gold that went down to his waist. The old man's long, white robe flowed gracefully to his ankles, its lower hem trimmed with matching blue and gold. Although his living quarters were modest, his elaborate clothing indicated that poverty did not bind him to it.

"So!" The stranger began, while a look of mock amusement crossed his face. "A vampire has come to pay me a visit tonight. If you have come to taste my blood, you will never pass through that barrier." He readied the whip, his eyes narrowing upon the pale creature when he added. "To answer your question, I am Rinaldo. I suggest you remember my name. I know your master does."

Joachim folded his arms across his chest as he returned the old man's implication with a look of offence. "Master?" He scoffed. "If you mean Walter, you are gravely mistaken. What purpose do you have in this forest? I suggest you return to wherever you came from, human."

Rinaldo's brow furrowed."Until the master of the castle is slain, my home is here. I warn you, this whip is nothing to scoff at."

Joachim threw his head back, laughing at the man's challenge until a feral crack from the whip startled him. In barely a second, the old man lashed the whip at him, though the power of his circling blades blocked it. The man's audacity surprised him. His pale eyes focused upon the stranger in annoyance. "Your weapon is useless. I have no reason to fear you, nor do I desire to drink _your_ blood."

"A likely story," The old man retorted. "Why have you come here, vampire? Did Walter taint you as well?" A knowing glint refracted within Rinaldo's eyes when he broke the silence. "You were once human. I can still see the bite marks on your neck…he took you recently."

Joachim growled softly whilst his hand flew to cover the wound on his neck, as if by doing so, the old man would fail to recognize the accuracy of his observation. He was _different_ now. "Stop staring at me like that!" He snapped. "Tell me why you are here, or I will kill you-"

"I do not have to explain myself to you." Rinaldo retorted, ignoring the vampire's threat in spite of the five swords whirling around him. "Evidently, you were bitten by Walter and turned. The fact you are here is all the proof I need."

Joachim despised Rinaldo's perceptiveness. Though he was tempted to kill him, he had already shed enough blood to last a lifetime. His aggression toward the human disturbed him, for the old man had done him no harm. _Why did Walter taint me but allow an old man to live here in his forest?_ His hatred for the man's humanity spilled from his lips. "You know nothing of me! Walter must have thought you were a waste of time; otherwise, you would be dead by now. Humans are weak. Tis' no wonder why they deserve to die."

The old man simply continued to stare at him in a strange silence, before he remarked. "Did you deserve this fate? Do you mean that all humans, even ones who are innocent, deserve to be defiled and killed?" The old man's voice hardened, so cold and sharp that Joachim felt his frame stiffen at the question. His lips quivered and looked away as the old man continued. "It's all a game to him, just like you were another game that he played until he claimed you." Rinaldo sighed and shook his head, allowing his braided locks to brush over his shoulders as he took a slow careful step forward. "Don't try to deny the truth, even though it is terrible. I pity you. Walter took yet another promising life and tainted it for his own pleasure. I live here to help those Walter has imprisoned for his entertainment, so that someday he will be defeated once and for all. I warn you, though; when that day comes you will suffer as well."

Joachim scoffed loudly in response, as a smirk crept across the corner of his lips. "_Really_? I doubt Walter sees it that way. The hunters you help do not stand a chance against him."

"Don't jump to conclusions, vampire. Once this whip is complete, you will understand exactly what I mean. Until then, enjoy the night – while you still have it to protect you."

Joachim continued to chuckle under his breath whilst he turned his back on the old man. "Lowly human. I can expect no less except this from one of your kind." As he levitated to drift from whence he came up the road, he heard Rinaldo call to him.

"I know you are still trying to resist the unholy urge to consume blood. If you give in, I will have no choice but to kill you next time we meet. You are no longer human…"

Joachim shook his head and continued without looking back, his lips firm to meet the offended glare in his eyes. "Senile old man." He muttered to himself as he returned to the castle up the road.

Once again, he retreated to the small blue chapel on the main floor. The young man drifted toward the angel, hovering beneath its cold, stone frame as he placed his chin in his hand. The angel's face looked toward the heavens, ignoring the pale white creature huddling near its feet. It did not surprise him that the angel looked away. Perhaps, all of the angels in heaven had turned their backs upon him. His eyes glanced briefly at the swords aligned behind his back. The blades of all five swords were soaked in blood, the red liquid gleaming in the room's aqua glow. Upon sighting the evidence of his brutality, his lip curled and his head lowered. He was undeserving of the title 'demon' for he was far worse. The act of killing was so very easy, perhaps damningly so. Although the blades protected his frail body, they also doomed him irreversibly.

He could not bear thinking about what he had done. Never, not even in his wildest nightmares, did he imagine himself a murderer. _Murderer. _The word's harsh and scathing inclination made him shudder whilst he considered the ruin he had brought upon his soul. _I am a murderer…_ He did not have to kill those humans whose blood stained his swords. Indeed, if he was merciful, he could have spared them all. A shadow appeared across his face when his irises tinted a shade of red. He could almost feel the silent screams building inside him as he slowly murdered his own soul. His eyes widened whilst the starkest form of terror reaped through him, causing his trembling white hand to touch the angel's cold, stone robes. Without realizing it, his head tilted upward, and his pearly hair cascaded against his ashen visage as the words fled from his lips. The young man's glistening eyes sought the angel's face, searching its unblinking eyes for but the briefest sign of compassion. "Help…me…_please_…" His pleas were lost in the coldness of its silence. The angel's unblinking eyes remained locked upon heaven. With a sorrowful cry, he buried his face in his hands and allowed the tears to fall. No one deserved his fate. He tried to comfort himself, desperate to cling to the last of his goodness whilst it was still in his possession. Memories flooded through his mind when he thought of Catherine.

Perhaps, if they met again, she would save him from…_himself_.

* * *

**~* FLASHBACK *~**

**- Joachim, age 7 - **

The small pale figure lay almost motionless in the bed. Dead blue eyes scanned the darkened room in search of light, but the large windows were covered by thick drapery, and not a sound broke through the silence. Each inhale he withdrew into his lungs was cut painfully short by the sharp jolts wielded within his chest. The boy's cracked lips trembled in a feeble attempt to search for a voice to put his suffering into words, however not a breath of a whisper filtered into the shadowy gloom of his prison. There were no bars to restrain him inside the room's four walls, no shackles retaining his place in the bed – only his own body – the small sickly form that kept the soul inside confined.

A tiny sigh was the only audible sound he managed to make before the soft lashes of his lids fluttered briefly shut. There was an awing amount of beauty to his untouched visage; despite the fact he appeared to be no older than seven years of age, yet his smooth countenance spoke of sufferings almost beyond normality for one so young. Trickles of perspiration slid down his flushed cheeks, and the subtle dampness of his body glistened under the rays of daylight managing to pry around the edges of the drapes, revealing the child's distinguishable features and sleek form resting beneath the covers. The little boy was so peaked that the slightest disturbance might cause his fragile form to disappear into the shadows.

The child's eyes slowly opened. Within the crystallized depth of the glinting pale irises, the most profound feeling of sadness overwhelmed every aspect of the soft whimpering filling his aching throat. By all accounts, he barely realized he was crying until the hot tears brimmed in his eyes. Stubbornly, or perhaps more so out of desperation, he refused to let them escape, and contained them even when his resigned snivels brought him that much closer. A strong aura of defeat engulfed his sorrow-ridden expression, as if the mere will to breathe was a wasted effort.

Almost unexpectedly, a soft rapping sound reverberated through the room. The boy's head lifted in search of the source of the sound, his eyes immediately straying toward the door when its heavy frame began to slowly open. Although the door's easeful motion was in an obvious attempt to not disturb the quiet atmosphere, an obnoxiously audible creak seemed to deafen its way through the congealing silence. In response to the noise, the child in the bed turned on his side and pulled the covers tight over his body, but could not hide long enough to resist catching a glimpse at the pair of bright green eyes peering at him from behind door in the shadows. Neither he nor his unannounced visitor spoke, but the wave of surprise spreading across his face revealed a stark desire for whomever it was to go away. To his dismay, the green eyes only blinked, before the loud creaking of the door grew louder as the person pushed against its frame until the opening was wide enough to reveal his mysterious visitor.

His visitor was nothing more than a little girl – a girl he quickly estimated to be around the age of five. The girl's bright green eyes looked at him inquisitively, but before she dared to enter the room she made a small curtsy, her dainty hands lifting the flowing fabric of her dress before releasing it. Aside from her dress, he quickly noticed her hair consisted of thick coiled ringlets, and a rather large emerald green ribbon tied into a bow that appeared almost too big for such a modest looking child. Most impressive of all was her smile, a gorgeous smile that seemed to warm the very core of the stuffy bedroom, and with it the room's despairing occupant. The moment her lighthearted steps carried her into the room, he turned in the bed again until he had his back to her and faced the covered windows, trying not to allow his gaze to take another glimpse at her vivid green eyes.

The boy's face became warped with misery, and although every aspect of him shuddered in objection, he could not withhold the softened sounds of his whimpering from reaching her ears. The tears welled in his eyes, causing his vision to blur, and one by one he let them fall. The tiny wet droplets slid down his cheeks and dampened the bedcovering, while he placed his frail hands in front of him and balled each one into a quavering fist. His tense shoulder blades sank back, and his weeping form curled in the bed to look smaller, wanting to escape the young girl's astonished stare that burned against his backside. Very patiently, he listened to the sounds of her footsteps, waiting for them to grow gradually distant so that he could be left in the same oppressive silence as before.

Instead, they pattered across the floor _toward _him. Without thinking he shut his eyes and tried to hide himself beneath the covers again, but after a few odd moments of stillness, his majestic lashes fluttered open and stared directly at the face of the ringlet haired girl. He was so taken aback that he found himself at a loss for words, especially since she was barely tall enough to see over the mattress. Within seconds, his throat constricted as if an invisible force was blocking his air passageway, causing every breath within his lungs to hitch, and the tears in his eyes to drip down his wan visage.

Before he could draw a breath to compose himself, her voice filled his ears for the very first time. It was a sweet but a surprisingly quiet. "Please don't cry…" There was not a single ounce of demand in any part of her subtle plea, but the boy's mood remained unchanged in its dreary envelopment, except for the dull aura of surprise still wielded throughout his pale countenance. After engaging in another brief silence, she lifted her body upon her toes so that her face could finally examine his face. "If you like, I can stay with you for a while. I saw your face in the window the other day. My father told me not come here but I wanted to meet you. I don't know why grownups think they can order us around all the time!" The young girl's nose wrinkled at the thought, but her bright eyes continued to blink at him cheerfully, though she struggled to maintain her balance upon her toes. Allowing another silence to pass, her gaze searched him from head to toe, watching the pale figure lying in his unresponsive state in the bed with tears streaming down his face. "Are you sick?" The childish innocence she possessed made itself clear from the inquisitive manner in which she cocked her head.

Instead of responding, the boy hiked the covers higher over him until most of his face was out of view, except for the dull shine of his pale eyes peeking through the open space he left between the covers and the pillow. A small gasp managed to escape his lips at the sight of the girl's delicate form clambering atop the bed, her small hands grasping the loose covers for support as her feet flailed against the side of the mattress until they found enough traction so she could crawl upon the mattress and sit next to him. "Will you talk to me?" her engaging smile did not fail to be encouraging, and enhanced by the image of perfection etched across every aspect of her complexion. "What's your name? You do have one don't you, or will I have to give you one myself?"

A teasing wink prompted him to shift beneath the covers. It was not surprising for a girl her age to ask so many questions, but there was something else beneath those questions only the faintest detectible, and he had sensed the unspoken aura of concern hidden behind her assuring grin. "Please? Until you tell me, I'm not going to go away." Her voice died into a softer whisper, her green eyes still focusing upon him and glittering like emeralds in the shadows. Trying to remain beneath the covers had become almost suffocating for the young boy, for he had been quite warm the entire day, and the added warmth from the blankets proved to be unbearable. Nonetheless, a strange air of nervousness engulfed him in the silence that followed. Before he even realized it himself, his dreary eyes trailed to her lovely face, and the dull sound of his voice broke through the silence and his outwardly dejected manner. "Joachim Armster."

The look of sheer doubt entrancing him afterward appeared to expect a scoff of repulsion, a harsh word, or even a simple silence in response to the short reply that emanated the intense sentiment of shame. Yet, the boy could scarcely comprehend her fascinated reaction. All at once her face lit up from the mere sound of his voice, and she leaned closer to him while wearing the most stunning smile a child of her age could endeavor to reveal. "Hello, Joachim!" Despite her cheerfulness, once again the boy's face fell into sorrow, though before he was consumed within it her eyes fled from his gaze and she bowed her head. "My name is Catherine - Catherine Corydon. I've heard you are strange and don't like going outside...but you don't look very happy about it, so I won't believe what the other kids say anymore."

The boy slowly peeled back the covers and sat up in the bed, his hollowed face still somber but rid of its earlier hints of distress. "C-Catherine?" The weak attempt he made to speak could hardly be considered a whisper. "Why did you come here? I am not supposed to have visitors, except my nursemaid, Anneliese."

He shrank back in the bed when the young girl's brow furrowed. "Well!" she made a slighted huff through her dainty nostrils. An impatient glint reflected within her emerald green eyes, and the thick black coils of her hair bounced as she leaned closer to him. "You're not very friendly, either. Anneliese was the one who let me visit you. Haven't you talked to a girl before?"

"That is not what I meant!" He shot back, but his eyes widened upon noticing how gingerly she grinned at him after he abandoned his gloom.

"So, what did you mean then?" she replied. "Do you want me to leave?" There seemed to be no end to her questions, and for another moment he hesitated, though was encouraged by her lighthearted smile. Before he could accumulate his thoughts, she began to slide off the bed.

The girl had just reached the edge of the bed when a feeble looking hand touched her shoulder. "…Please don't go…" The plea he made was so forlorn she looked over her shoulder at the teary-eyed boy, who had then pulled his legs close to his body and sat staring at her with an unblinking gaze. "Catherine." His lips spoke her name with such delicate articulation he almost gave the impression of believing it belonged to an angel. "If you stay with me, you would make me feel better. I have not talked to anyone in quite some time."

"Really?" She turned and crawled toward him across the bedspread, and reached beneath the covers until her hand grasped onto his. The boy drew a gasp and appeared he would shy away from her touch, but contrary to his trembling, his eyes managed to remain locked upon her lovely face. The little girl smiled at him, her bright eyes reflecting like emeralds. Without hesitating, she seated herself next to him on the bed and pulled out a book. "I brought this for you…I hope you like it. I heard rich people have tons of books because they read lots of important stuff everyday."

For the first time in a long while, a smile spread across his pale lips. The boy eagerly looked at the leather book she was holding. However, the girl paused and lowered her head, her eyes casting themselves upon the bedspread as if there was something terribly interesting there. He barely heard her whisper under her breath. "I…am sorry…I don't know how to read..."

The boy smiled in return and took the book from her. He opened its leather cover and scanned the handwriting within it. "Do not worry," he reassured her whilst his gentle blue eyes returned to her face. "I can teach you. Then, we can read this together."

"Really?" She asked, her eyes looked up at him nervously until he nodded.

"If you visit me again, I will teach you to read new words every day."

"Okay," a smile spread across her lips and she beamed at him merrily. A hint of color appeared in the boy's cheeks when she added. "I would love to, Joachim – I mean Sir Armster - I mean lord Armster! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call you by your first name."

The boy's smile broadened and he shook his head. Without thinking, he placed his hand upon hers, his voice falling quiet. "It is fine. You can call me Joachim, if I can call you Catherine?"

"Of course, you can." She continued to beam at him, her emerald eyes glittering whilst coils of her thick, raven hair cascaded down her back. For a moment, a nervous look appeared upon her face when she added hesitantly. "I don't think Lord Zaeviean wants me here, though…I don't have a nice house or a bunch of servants to order around like you do. My father tells me we don't need those kinds of things; that having servants will just make us not be thankful for what we have. I don't understand what he's rambling about most of the time!"

Though she was a petite child, the joy she expressed made his gloomy expression disappear. The girl's inferior social position mattered not to the young boy, for he was concealed from the world, as well as its prejudices. He could tell she was bohemian by looking at her, for her lightly tanned skin contrasted with his pallid flesh. In swift dismissal of her fear, he waved his hand, his pale eyes hardening with his confident reply. "I do not care what my father thinks." A slight scowl spread across his delicate lips. "He does not want me to die, because our family name would die with me. I will ask Anneliese to escort you to my chamber when my father is gone. More often than not, he goes to fight the heathens - bad people - somewhere far away. Please don't worry, _Catherine_..."

For years afterward, his father never understood why his son did not die. Joachim firmly believed he owed his life to Catherine. The loneliness plaguing his early years vanished the day he met her. Even his illness seemed to improve when she visited him. Like a guardian angel, she stayed by his side, no matter how ill he became.

Despite his tainted soul, his heart would love her always.


	18. Chapter 18: Covenant

**Author's Note:** I decided to update since I wanted to keep the story moving. I am still editing future chapters, though hopefully this one will suffice in the meantime. I guarantee that if you think things between Walter and Joachim seem too "soft" right now, you might be surprised by what happens later on. Anyway, I could not resist adding everyone's favorite tactician/fallen knight/vampire king to the story at last. Although Mathias' "transformation" may have strayed from the plotline (aka the crimson stone changing him) I knew he HAD to have talked/met Walter at some point in order to plan his 'revenge against God.' It really didn't make sense that a stone could make him lose his humanity so I thought of an alternative way, which will hopefully seem plausible. Mathias is crazy, that's pretty obvious. As for Walter...well...I'll leave you to conclude why he might have decided to accept the tactician's offer.

I'm sort of worried about making Joachim sound too whiny/weak in this story. I hope I haven't done that... but he does have morals and tries to keep them. Though, I admit, I like how Walter slams him for being so melancholy all the time :D

Also, Joachim's fight in the garden at the end was kind of fun to write. I just felt like adding it, since it would be interesting to see how he would react to the other bosses/monsters.

Special Thanks

**Rahar Moonfire:** I know real life gets in the way sometimes but I'm glad you took the time to read TWO chapters and review them both :) I like hearing your constructive comments and take them to heart. Perhaps I should find a beta reader? This story could use one, though it is quite long. I just realized how "old school" I am. I used to submit fiction on this site before there was even a "review response" option available. So, in the past, if I wanted to respond to people I could only type it in the story box (like this) for everyone to view. I haven't been able to break the habit by just submitting a "review response" individually. Oh well, I'm lazy :P As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this next chapter. Yay, Mathias has arrived! (err...wait...)

**LateNiteSlacker: **Thank you for reading and reviewing my work. Walter is extremely manipulative and Joachim knows it. Hopefully, this chapter will show Walter getting impatient with Joachim rebuking him and starting to take control over his unwilling companion. Things will definitely get darker from here. Joachim still looks out for himself, even though he is attracted to Walter in many ways. I am not as familair with Mathias so I hope I got his character down in this chapter. He's not the main focus in the story but his presence is significant nonetheless. Like Leon, Joachim's hatred for Walter becomes a weakness Mathias exploits to the fullest. Why not have two after Walter's head instead of just one? If Mathias met Joachim, I'm pretty sure he would take advantage of Joachim's resentment and anger.

**TheGhostisReal:** Thank you for reviewing again. I am happy to see you continue to follow this story. :) I hope this chapter will be exciting now that Mathias has arrived. I wasn't sure how the whole "agreement/pact" between him and Walter went down so I did my best to guess and this is what I came up with. Walter would talk about killing people as casually as the weather - and over dinner, no less. If I had to decide who was more twisted (Mathias vs. Walter) I don't think I could choose.

**Chapter XVIII**

The laboratory was one of the most interesting places Joachim had ever seen. The air was heavy, and smelled of stale, nameless chemicals. Numerous furnaces heated the entire wing of the castle and its humidity stabilized the chemicals stored there. The laboratory was dimly lit at best, perhaps even crude in its design, though Joachim could not deny the fact it intrigued him greatly. _What on earth was Walter trying to create in here? _The thought made a chill run through his spine. The monsters in the laboratory, despite their numbers, were far from threatening. Every so often, he would come across groups of zombies. Their bodies would usually be ignited and blackened by fire, possibly after knocking over a flask containing an explosive component. The creatures wandered aimlessly through the hallways moaning in agony, while the putrid smell of burning flesh followed them wherever they went. After a while, he became accustomed to the unpleasant smell. Whatever brains they had as humans had long since rotted away, leaving behind mindless, thrashing forms. Zombies were more of a nuisance than a true threat. Often, they tried blocking him in the laboratory's narrow hallways so he could not pass without attacking them. He only needed to summon his swords to attack a few times before they fell, screaming in agony, and burning to cinders before his thirsting eyes.

A part of him admired the fact that death followed him like a shadow wherever he went. Death itself was becoming beautiful to him. The slow, gasping of a last breath being drawn, the cold shudder, the dull pain…and then…finally, the blackness that snuffed it out. It was easier to die than to survive - he had seen it many times as a lord, forced to endure the sight of his own people starving or succumbing to plague. Sometimes, it seemed hardly a day could go by without watching the familiar wooden cart trolling up and down Creightel's cobblestone roads. The church bell always tolled during winter when the nights were long and dark, and the specter death lingered, waiting to take its next victim. He could not remember what it felt like when he died. The only memory he had of the incident was a cold, silent blackness, before awaking as a vampire. Death had visited him and then passed him by, recognizing the bite marks on his neck as Walter's claim over his soul.

Something had occurred within the laboratory's mysterious walls. He could almost feel the earnestness for discovery, for truth, for the answer to eternal life. It hung in the air and enticed him to wander deeper into the laboratory's extraordinary ambience. Some of the rooms he entered were wide and open, and contained wooden shelves scattered with books, flasks, various surgical instruments, and jars of unrecognizable specimens. Other rooms were all but empty, their uses unknown and lost after centuries of abandonment. He could not imagine Walter performing scientific experiments. It did not seem characteristic of a demon who spent his leisure time kidnapping lovers and destroying them. The only thing he knew was Walter's powers were not without limit. It frustrated him to no end that in his search for answers, all he found was more questions.

After a time, he wandered to the third floor of the laboratory and entered an enormous room. Books of all shapes and sizes lined the back wall of the room. However, his attention was drawn to a massive telescope. It was so tall that it nearly touched the ceiling. The telescope's massive frame pointed out a large opening in the wall overlooking the cloudy night sky. A small table had been set up near the base of the telescope. The table's crude wooden frame was covered with papers and books. On the back wall by the shelves was a small fireplace that looked as if it had not cradled flames within it for quite some time. A flash of intrigue appeared within the young man's pale blue eyes as he drifted into the room, awed by its neglect and opulence. Even the greatest scientist did not possess a laboratory as advanced. The young vampire was determined to make it his– the perfect place in which he could read, write, and study. Illness had taught him that knowledge was liberating.

He settled himself into chair in front of the long, wooden table, and began combing through the various documents scattered across it. Most were unintelligible - complex formulas and calculations leading to conclusions he did not understand. Whoever had written them had long since passed away, taking the mystery of their discoveries with them in death. Without hesitating, he got up and approached the bookshelves. The laboratory's humid air bothered him, for it made his ashen skin sheen like a pearl. The youth wiped his brow with his hand, his cold flesh irritated by the laboratory's unyielding heat. He commanded the books to leave the dusty shelves concealing them for centuries and directed them to float toward the table. Satisfied, he sat down and immersed himself in the long-forgotten texts. Most of the books he picked were in languages he did not recognize, for the scrawling handwriting was barely distinguishable. However, the few books he could read contained numerous diagrams, outlines, and mathematical formulas. One book in particular was especially interesting. Although most of it was written in Latin, two words stood out in his mind:

_Aeternam vitam_

_Lapillus Hebenus_

Eternal life. Ebony stone. He could not make out the connection between them, for the handwriting had faded – as though the author purposely concealed their secrets. He was so absorbed in the book that he did not even notice Walter until the sound of the other lord's voice startled him.

"Ah, I see you have discovered my library…"

Walter stood in the doorway, his dark eyes fixed upon him with interest. Without waiting for acknowledgement, he walked into the room, his cape swishing along with his confident strides. His regal head tossed his thick, crimson hair against his flawless cheeks. Before answering the young man's surprise, he folded his arms across his chest and surveyed the books scattered across the desk.

"Reading anything of interest?" The demon asked as a smile appeared across his fine lips. When the young man returned his question with a scathing look, he continued carefully. "I did not mean to disturb you."

"Yes you did." The youth sneered. He realized he had left the book open in front of him on the desk. Hoping the other lord had not noticed, he picked it up and promptly snapped it shut. "I was in the middle of reading. Though I would love to converse with you, I am rather busy at the moment."

A low, barely audible chuckle escaped Walter's lips when he replied. "Have you no time to enjoy yourself?" The mocking hint in his voice was impossible to ignore. "I am curious to know what you are studying, my little scholar."

"Nothing of importance." Without looking at the other lord he opened one of the books he had previously discarded. As long as Walter did not see what he had been reading, he was confident the vampire would lose interest and depart. A scowl creased the corners of his lips as he studied the book in an attempt to ignore him. To his growing annoyance, Walter approached the table, his muscular frame shadowing the young man.

He could almost feel Walter's eyes looking down at him. A shudder ran through his body when the vampire lord leaned around him, his lips brushing across his cheek. The youth gasped and attempted to hide his surprise behind a mask of seriousness. "It seems you are still angry about our previous disagreement." The demon whispered silkily. "Though you are beautiful, I know you resent me for turning you. You thirst for my blood and nothing more."

"What more is there?" He cast a weary glance upon Walter's elegant visage. He could not understand why, despite his vexation, he could not turn the demon away entirely.

He felt the vampire slide his other hand around his back and to his face, cupping it tenderly as his low, sonorous voice filled the room. "Everything. Tis' true, you still mourn the loss of your humanity. Nevertheless, you have the opportunity to begin anew…the past is irrelevant, now."

Joachim grimaced, and felt his ears burn from his lord's poisonous words. Despite the anger coursing through his withered veins, his voice remained calm. He feared Walter was right. Like the God Prometheus, he wondered what would become of him – and humanity itself – if he unleashed the fire building inside his heart onto the world. Hatred was like fire, for it was capable of spreading and engulfing everything in its path. Though he was numb to the fact he was a vampire, very gradually, he was beginning to fear himself. Only his memories reminded him of a life he once had. Memories that had come and gone as if they were autumn leaves scattered in the wind. Without realizing it, his breath hitched in his chest, while his voice managed to choke out the emotions churning within his soul. His voice shook with sadness when he spoke as his eyes cast themselves to the floor, seeking refuge from Walter's prying gaze. "No. I would exchange a thousand lonely nights in this castle for days spent in the sun. A single lifetime as a human is more than eternity as a vampire."

For a moment Walter remained silent. Without even looking at him, Joachim could feel his pain – though he knew not if its basis was remorse, resentment, or grief. Perhaps it was all three. However, when the other lord's voice filled his ears, it was clear that whatever emotions transpired beneath those dark, mysterious eyes, only briefly delayed the response following it. "Such a tragic sentiment. Must you always be so depressing, Joachim?" Without waiting for his rebuttal, the red-haired lord continued coldly. "Your life would have been ordinary and brief. Humanity's fragility is its greatest weakness. The pain of your loss merely confirms it. I know all too well the ephemeral nature of life, for death always follows after it like a hungry dog, waiting to devour it."

The tension flowing through the red-haired lord was enough to infect everything around it like a sickness. Though beautiful, Walter's ashen countenance concealed a truth that made the young man shudder. Before he could stop himself, his desire to ease his lord's pain overcame his revulsion. He bowed his head, allowing curtains of his soft, white hair to fall against his ashen cheeks as he wound his fingers between the other lord's. With a sigh, he gently squeezed his hand, attempting to comfort him, though he knew not why. A single lifetime of loss was nothing compare to an eternity of it. Despite their differences, they shared the same fate. It was impossible for him to deny that a part of him admired the fact that Walter persevered through it all. The warmth in his voice betrayed the hatred in his icy gaze when he whispered under his breath.

"_You are not alone_…"

Without awaiting a reply, he rose from his chair and turned to look at him. Though Walter's face was composed, he could almost see the storm of want and desire in his eyes. Although the other lord's grace and beauty mesmerized him, it filled him with a desire to possess it and consume it. He alone would rule Walter's heart. It contented him to think that, despite being physically weaker, he still possessed great power over the other lord. He did not doubt Walter knew it as well. Joachim's pale, greedy eyes scanned Walter's great frame, admiring the ripping muscles hidden beneath his armor. He fell to his knees and raised Walter's hand to his lips, kissing the cold, sallow flesh as if his moment of affection could erase centuries of his lord's grief. He had kissed his hand as if he were a god – a dark god, capable of destroying him with as much passion as loving him.

The pity he felt for the demon vanished the moment he looked upon Walter's smirking face. The barest thread of his composure threatened to snap under Walter's arrogance. The red-haired lord's hand flew to his chin, cupped it, pulling his vulnerable head upward. Not even a second later, his lips were covered in a fierce, powerful kiss. However, the affection he received could not ease the rage flowing through the young man's wounded pride. Without hesitating, his fangs bit down upon the intruding lips. The warm, thick tang of blood filled his mouth and drowned his rage in a stream of red. He heard his lord emit an enraged cry before his vision was spotted by pain. A powerful hand knocked his frail body onto the floor. "_Insolent wretch_!" Walter hissed, his voice distorted by the blood streaming from his wounded mouth. The red liquid slid down the vampire lord's ashen face and sprinkled over the floor like crimson rain.

He regained himself long enough to look up at Walter as he lay on the floor, bleeding from a gash in his cheek. It pleasured him when he saw the pain he had wrought. "Do not toy with me, Walter." He sneered, whist attempting to stop the blood gushing from his wounded cheek. The red liquid slid between his fingers when he touched the raw flesh. The white-haired youth pressed his hand to his lips, tasting the repulsive and familiar sourness of his own blood. Nevertheless, despite his pain, Walter's enraged expression prompted a brutal, cold laugh to escape his throat.

Walter's face was twisted by rage. His fine lips, once calm and soft, quickly curled into a scowl. The young man's laughter was silenced by the sole of Walter's boot colliding against his chest. Before he could even let out a gasp, he fell back against the floor as pain flooded through his entire body. Without giving him a chance to recover from the blow, Walter grasped the creature by the collar of his robe and lifted him up. "You impertinent fool!" He snarled. The richness in his voice was consumed by rage and disgust. "You are nothing compared to me. I would beat you here and now, if I did not know you would enjoy it so much!"

"Then what will do you with me?" The youth croaked while struggling feebly against his lord's powerful grasp. Walter's next words were so unexpected that he wondered if the red-haired lord had lost his mind.

"I have a guest tonight. I would be pleased if you would dine with us. Perhaps then, I might forgive you."

His eyes widened as he stared at Walter in disbelief. Despite searching for falsehood, he realized Walter was serious. "A guest?" He gasped. "Who have you kidnapped, now? If you think I am entertained by your games-"

Walter's smile turned into a slight smirk, met completely with his low yet audible voice. "That was not a request. I am certain that once you meet him, you will understand the circumstances."

Joachim stared up at him with growing reluctance. "Who would want to come here of his own will, knowing the odds are already set against them? You murdered Lady Rohesia before her lover could save her life!" He returned Walter's disgust with his own. The idea that the game always leaned in the vampire's favor made him less than eager to find out. No human stood a chance against the demon's power. Even if they managed to reach him, the one they sought to rescue was already doomed.

Walter's persistence knew no bounds. "So you know." The other lord remarked while the mocking smile he wore ceased to fade. "I fed upon her blood, since I knew her lover would fail to defeat one of my most prized monsters. Tis' a shame you missed him when he arrived. I would have enjoyed watching you spar."

Joachim scowled darkly. For the moment, he and Walter had reached a stalemate. The only sign of his acknowledgment was a reluctant nod. Walter swept away from him, the cordiality in his voice returning when he ordered.

"Wash your face before you attend, Joachim. I will expect you in my throne room within the hour."

* * *

Joachim floated up the steps to the throne room. Upon entering, he noticed a long table had been set up and was decorated with a fine red cloth and silver china. Three chairs were set at the table, one at each head and the other in the middle. His attention however, was directed to Walter's dinner guest. "Walter, why did you invite a _human _to dine with us tonight?" His eyes stared at the tall figure wearing long black robes and a forest green blanket over one shoulder. The neckline of his robe was trimmed with white rabbit fur matching the trimming at the bottom of his robes and ankle high black boots. Several jeweled rings covered his delicate fingers. Long, chestnut colored hair fell around his face and curled ornately at the ends. Partially covering his wrists were iron gauntlets with the recognizable seal of a knight. The man's face was smooth, contoured, and rather handsome, though a subtle hint of malice reflected within his eyes.

Without looking at him, Walter motioned for him to take his seat at the table. The red haired lord had, evidently, cleaned the wounds on his lips. There was not even the slightest trace of the argument that occurred between them merely hours before their dining together. Curtains of Walter's shimmering red hair spilled against his neck and shoulders as he seated himself at the head of the table. A proud glint appeared within his black eyes, which focused upon their human guest. "Do not be so inhospitable!" He scolded, ignoring the white-haired vampire's doubt. "Now, be seated so that we may begin our meal. I wish to enjoy our evening. Tis been a long while since I dined with a human."

"I understand your hatred." The man commented, his dark chestnut colored eyes locking upon Joachim deliberately. The mere look he gave captured the attention of both vampires simultaneously. His voice was calm, deep, and somewhat reserved. However, the cordial smile he gave indicated a surprising fearlessness. The bloody nature of the crusades had made him immune to the threat of violence and death. "Humans are nothing compared to immortals. If you permit me, I would be honored to dine with you tonight." Without waiting for a reply, he made a graceful bow. The man's long, chestnut hair cascaded around his shoulders and elegant face.

Joachim stared in silence while the man introduced himself. "I am Mathias Cronqvist. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lord Armster."

"How do you know my family?" Joachim replied tersely, ignoring Walter's annoyance at his brazen remark. The red-haired lord drummed his gauntlet-covered fingers impatiently upon the tablecloth.

Mathias bowed again. Joachim could tell he was a man of great wealth and respectability. His manners were precise and deliberate, and his words eloquent and polite. His chestnut colored eyes did not leave the young vampire for instant as he replied. "The resemblance between you and your father is unmistakable. I have heard great stories about Lord Armster's victories in the East. I did not know he had a son-"

"My father preferred it that way." He muttered, already knowing that it was going to be a long evening. His lips curled into a scowl as he drifted toward the table and sat down. His ivory hair curtained around his face when he lowered his head, casting his eyes upon the plate in front of him. "I was chronically ill and unable to follow in his footsteps."

"Tis' regretful." Mathias replied while seating himself at the table across from the white-haired youth. Although the tantalizing smell of food filled the air, he looked at the plates with disinterest. Though relaxed, something within his gaze indicated that he was not there for the conversation. He could barely believe how unbothered Mathias was by the fact that his flesh was the object of his thirst, something his pale eyes desired to puncture with his fangs. Without hesitating, the knight placed a napkin on his lap and gave the young man a sad, respectful smile. "Lord Zaeviean was a great man. I am honored to dine with his son. As a vampire, you no longer fear illness or death. For that, I am envious."

"Envious?" Joachim repeated as if the suggestion behind it was completely unheard of. He raised an eyebrow at the man, his lips pursing for a moment. He had to choose his words carefully in Walter's presence. He could almost feel his lord's eyes watching his every move when he continued, hiding his spite behind his eloquent response. "Tis' human nature to want what is not ours. As a human, I always longed to be strong. I suppose, my prayers were answered…"

A silent smile spread across Walter's lips. The vampire lord leaned back in his chair, giving the young man a knowing look. No words needed to be said to confirm the hatred that passed from Joachim's gaze when Walter added smoothly. "Indeed. Life and death are unforgiving. Nothing asked for is always granted… and nothing granted is always asked for." He shot daggers at Walter but held his tongue. Now was not the time to anger the red-haired lord. If he did not mind his thoughts, his swords were capable of betraying him – intentionally or not. His psychic abilities were still in their early stages of development. Not even he knew what his mind was capable of if his emotions clouded his judgment.

He could do nothing except watch Mathias nod in agreement, his deep voice filling with a sudden passion that startled him as much as Walter. Joachim's eyes flew open upon hearing the human's ardent reply. "You're perceptiveness is admirable, Lord Bernhard."Mathias's smooth lips curled into a deep frown and his eyes darkened. The man rose from his chair as the hatred spilled from his lips like fire. "The very thing mankind has come to depend on, to look toward in their times of suffrage, and which has led them to their malice and unforgiving ways that they have taken from that being's example – God! God enjoys taking what humans treasure most and giving nothing in return."

"Ah, God." Walter reminisced, smirking slightly. The red-haired lord folded his hands in front of him whilst his dark eyes focused thoughtfully upon the man's enraged expression. One thing Joachim knew was that Walter admired the passion and loathing in his words.

Mathias' anger somehow made him appear more stately, perhaps even more beautiful, than his once calm demeanor had indicated. A spark of rage ignited within his chestnut colored eyes.

The knight slammed his fists on the table and shook his head, his entire body trembling as he continued, the passion making his voice rise into a bold reprimand. "God is the reason why mankind suffers. I have felt such suffering because of his cruelty, for despite my efforts to be righteous within His eyes, it was not enough. I fought battles in His name, I proclaimed my devotion to Him, and I attended mass every Sunday. However, He stole from me the one I valued most, who above all else I held dear to my heart."

"Stole from you? What did 'God' take?" Joachim could not resist asking. The man's hatred for God attracted his immediate and undivided attention. It was impossible for him to deny that he understood, deep within his own tainted soul, what the man implied. If anyone had reasons to hate God, his were immeasurable. Memories flooded into his mind – a lonely grave upon a hill, a priest's cassock torn from pleading hands, and the cold, merciless eyes that accompanied it. Decades, centuries, and even an eternity could come to pass and he would never forget. _Never_…

Mathias fell silent, closing his eyes, until the name he spoke prompted him to open them and gaze back. Another silence passed before he replied, his voice softening to a whisper. "Elisabetha, my beloved wife. The only one whom I cherished, whom I asked God to protect until I could return to her - God mercilessly took her from this world. For that, I curse Him!"

Mathias fell into another eerie silence that was broken only by Walter's question. "Interesting." The vampire lord mused aloud, his eyes glinting in the candlelight. "Though your story is quite entertaining, it does not explain why you have come to my castle. There is no God here - only Eternal Night."

"Precisely." Mathias finished, his eyes glinting in return when he lifted his cutlery, almost as if remembering there was food to be eaten. The man's candid reply surprised Joachim. Despite Mathias' passion and grief, his self-control was astounding. The white-haired youth could not help admiring his devotion to the woman he lost. Indeed, if a man's love was great enough to bring him to Eternal Night, it proved love knew no bounds. Not even death itself would stop Mathias from ensuring that his objectives were carried out. The hardness in Joachim's eyes relented for a moment. However, it quickly returned when the man looked at Walter and bowed his head. His subtle proposition, though polite, made Walter's eyes flicker. "I am curious if you find my terms suitable? I guarantee they will result in your favor. "

Walter stared expressionlessly at his wine glass. His smooth lips formed a slight frown. "I am still considering your request."

"What is this about?" Joachim could not resist interjecting. A feeling of dread filled him as he glanced between Walter and Mathias. Despite the indifference he attempted to display, the alarm in his icy eyes betrayed him. In an attempt to restrain himself, he added spitefully. "Humans have nothing to offer vampires, except their blood and their lives."

"Tis' true, Lord Armster." Mathis replied, whilst his dark brown eyes gave him a shrewd look.

"Thus, I offer my blood and my life in exchange for immortality. I do not worship God and I no longer wish to see Him in this life or the next." The severe look upon the man's face confirmed the hated in his eyes. His intensity both allured and repulsed the white-haired youth, whose mouth nearly fell agape.

"Though your offer is…unconventional, why should I accept?" Walter's voice was strained by impatience. Joachim could only guess that his lord was no less taken aback by the request than he was. Walter's dark eyes looked upon the man cautiously. Despite his surprise, he was no fool. Evidently, in the countless centuries of his existence, no one had ever _requested_ to have their soul ruined. The Church, as well as personal morality, ensured that. "If I want either of those things, I can merely go out and find a human to supply me with them – and I do that every evening."

Mathias shook his head, his voice filling with a kind of urgency that proved the genuine nature of his request. Although Joachim attempted to search for some form of regret, perhaps even hesitation, he could find none. The man's face was expressionless and bereft of fear or doubt. The coldness in his brown eyes indicated that the loss he suffered had brought him well beyond the point of reconsidering. "Walter, I swear there is much for you to gain. I know you granted Lord Armster this gift. If you agree to my offer, you shall finally receive the worthy adversary you desire."

Joachim's eyes widened as he snapped with repugnance. "Gift? You call being a vampire a _gift_? Foolish human, you do not understand-"

Walter shot him a warning look. "This matter does not concern you!"

"I will not be silent!" Joachim grabbed the wine glass near his plate and threw it at the wall. The glass hit the stone with a resounding shatter, though the sound was nothing compared to his rage as he hissed between gritted teeth. "How _dare_ you ask such a thing, Lord Cronqvist! I was not willingly taken." His nails ripped at the cloth, and he heard Walter growl loudly with impatience.

Mathias remained still and stared back at Joachim until he at last replied. "I am aware of the consequences, however, they are meaningless now. My will to live died with my wife. If Lord Bernhard grants my last request, I will never see God in this life or the next. How can you not want eternity, too?"

"_How_?" Joachim shoved his chair back and levitated to stare down at the man with growing abhorrence. He bared his fangs and sent his plate crashing off the table and to the floor with a swipe of his arm. No sooner had he done it than he felt Walter's gauntlet-covered hand slap him across the face. The blow was so quick and powerful that his levitating form staggered back, his face a mask of horror and rage as his hand flew to his cheek, nursing the wound inflicted by his lord.

When his loathing gaze fell upon Walter, the red-haired lord's eyes blazed furiously. "You will hold your tongue!" Walter snapped, baring his fangs at the sight of the young man's glowering expression.

An uncomfortable silence ensued before Mathias attempted to return the vampire lord's attention back to their conversation. "I hardly consider an immortal life a foolish choice, for it is the desire of every human, whether they wish to admit it or not. I am one of the few who seeks it out. In exchange, I offer the life of another that shall, hopefully, provide you some entertainment."

Mathias's gaze returned to Walter when the vampire leaned returned to his seat, his armored frame leaning forward in mounting interest. "Another life?" Walter inquired while smiling darkly at the implication. In the torchlight, his pallid flesh gleamed with a deadly kind of beauty that, for a moment, drew Joachim's attention. Walter was so absorbed in the conversation that he did not even notice the white-haired youth's disapproving scowl. Joachim could barely believe that both the knight and Walter were discussing human lives with such casual indifference. In fact, he suspected the knight was almost proud, for coldness in his eyes showed little to no emotion.

Mathias bowed his head as his cold words outlined the arrangement he had in mind. "My trusted comrade, Baron Leon Belmont, is betrothed to a merchant's daughter. Though their marriage was arranged, he fell in love with her. I know he would do anything to ensure her safety. His love for her knows no limits. The Baron and I have fought countless battles…and to this day our company remains undefeated. " After pausing for a moment, a slight grin appeared across his delicate lips when he added smoothly. "I offer you the greatest game you shall ever play. It will be a game to die for, I assure you…"

Walter leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing. He folded his hands and rested both elbows on the table, his eyes glinting. "I will consider your offer, Lord Cronqvist. Perhaps we can come to an agreement."

Mathias swiftly shook his head and answered. "Baron Belmont is preoccupied with the Crusades at this present time, though he is due to return home shortly to wed. This must be completed prior to that."

Walter's smirk abruptly faded, and he rose from his chair and began to walk about the room. His long black cape swished with his steps, as his boots thumped over the marble floor. Joachim watched such a sight in silence, his eyes ablaze still from the topic they discussed. However, his lips refused to utter another objection – for the moment. "So," The red-haired lord remarked. "I am to base my decision on the schedule of a human? Do not be ridiculous. I did not say I would accept your offer. What makes you think I would even let you leave my castle, alive?"

"I decided to entrust you with my life because I believe you are reasonable. Do as you will, for I am in no position to dispute you, if you wish to kill me." Mathias rose from his chair and bowed. His long, chestnut hair fell against his smooth face as he raised his head and continued calmly."I considered no one else to turn to except you. Everyone knows your name and fears your unmatched abilities." A low chuckle parted through Walter's lips, and he cocked his head and refrained from speaking. Carefully, Mathias approached, staring directly at the vampire while ignoring Joachim's disapproving scowl. "Even if you do not accept." He continued. "I am grateful for the fact you listened to my request."

As Joachim watched them, his muscles tensed anxiously. He felt his hands clench into fists, and without hesitation bounded out of his chair once again, allowing his swords to encircle around him. "You are fortunate that I am not the one who will decide. Humans are not meant to be immortal and do not deserve it." Though his words were bold, Walter merely tossed his head in response, allowing tendrils of his crimson hair to cascade against his ivory cheeks. As though a

mosquito was buzzing in his ear, he emitted a huff and waved his hand dismissively at the young man. Joachim felt his entire body tremble upon realizing that his lord admired the human's tenacity. He wished he felt the same amount of adore, for the knight's willingness to die disturbed him greatly.

Nevertheless, his pale blue eyes primarily focused themselves on Walter's tall, foreboding frame. If the vampire lord wished it, he could have killed the man. A voice screamed inside his mind for his lord to do it, ending the conversation with a final, merciless swipe of his gauntlet-covered fist. Even though it was none of his concern, he wondered what would possess a man to betray his own comrade. He did not know the extent of Mathias' friendship with the Baron, however, the man's intimate knowledge was telling. Indeed, a part of him pitied the trusting Baron. Mathias' confidence indicated that the Baron was truly ignorant of the betrayal. For a moment, he considered intervening himself. If his mind willed it, one of his swords could cut the man in half with a single swipe. Yet, he remained where he sat, unable – or more likely – unwilling to be the decider of fate. The young man's lips curled at the thought_. Let humans suffer and die. I have already sacrificed myself to save what is not worth saving. _

"I did not journey all this way to return without gain." Mathias pressed, his steady gaze wavering to Joachim for a moment. Without needing to speak, he knew that the young vampire had considered killing him. Nevertheless, in spite of the possibility, Mathias' determination was unyielding. The man embraced death as though it marked the salvation of his soul, rather than its destruction. "Once your part of our agreement is fulfilled, Lord Bernhard, I will ensure mine is in exchange."

An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Walter's dark eyes remained locked on the man, his confident expression masking his thoughts. Despite Walter's intrigue, Joachim sensed he was hesitating. He could almost feel the other vampire's body tensing. _Kill him! _Joachim's thoughts raged against his composed exterior. For a moment, Walter lowered his head, his dark eyes casting themselves upon the floor. His fine, graceful lips, formed a slight frown whilst his blood-red hair splayed across his shoulders in thick, beautiful coils. The vampire lord's calm silence consumed the young man. He looked into Walter's starlit eyes, attempting to capture their secrets, for a gentleness had suddenly appeared within them. Without looking at the knight, Walter extended his hand, his voice falling strangely quiet. "Come before me, human. I have decided to grant your request."

Joachim's eyes widened and his breath hitched in his chest. _Walter…why? What do you see in this wretched man to grant him this fate? _Nothing about his lord's decision made sense – and the harder he tried to understand it, the more frustrated it made him. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself into silence, though his storming thoughts denied him peace. _Only a depraved mind would seek out this fate willingly. I pray this is not something Walter will regret. Though, it pains me to admit it…_ Another part of him knew that if something ill occurred he might welcome it with open arms. He despised himself for his momentary concern over Walter's interests. It would not happen again – he tried to convince himself…

A slow smile pierced the vampire's lips, which parted to reveal his protruding fangs. Without hesitating, the knight allowed Walter to grasp him by the front of his robes. For a moment, the vampire gazed at the flesh as his cold, lifeless hand pushed back the collar. Joachim looked away, wanting to close his eyes but they refused to shield him from the sight. At last, Walter plunged his fangs into the man's neck. His eyes widened to meet his trembling lips, his body frozen in place as if turned into a statue. He lowered his head, his mind reeling the longer he heard Walter's pleasured growls echo throughout the room. Sounds he vaguely remembered hearing on the night his soul was defiled by the vampire's bite. If the young man had any color left, all of it drained away as he stood, watching another soul fall into darkness. Walter's willingness to take life made the image both terrifying and fascinating. He despised the fact that he could look upon it without even shedding a tear. If he had any tears left, he could not shed them, for a part of his broken soul had no strength left to cry.

Not even being bit by Walter could make a cry of pain sound through Mathias' lips. When it seemed like the vampire would drain the man completely dry, Walter reluctantly lifted his head away. Blood streamed down the curves of Mathias' exposed neck, sliding beneath his clothing and down his arm, until it appeared beneath his sleeve and stained the rings on his hands red. The brutal sight was rivaled only by the glazed look in Walter's eyes. Without looking at the man's pale form, the red-haired lord tossed the body onto the floor. A grin flashed across the vampire's lips as Mathias' blood streamed from the corners of his mouth. "Are you hungry, Joachim? Come and dine with me – he will sleep until his transformation is complete." The other lord approached the table and sat down, quickly picking at the food on his plate. "Pity, this meal has gone cold. I suppose I must engage in shorter conversation in the future. Lord Cronqvist was rather amusing with his rants about God, but God forbid an entire meal wasted."

It took all of his restraint to avoid sending one of his swords at his lord's head. With a feral snarl, he hissed. "I am not hungry, especially after watching _you_ feed."

Walter took a large bite from a piece of bread and leaned forward, his dark eyes glancing from Joachim and the swords aligned behind his back. Evidently, aware of the young man's fleeting thought to attack him. With an impatient huff he replied. "Mathias was a willing sacrifice." A dangerous glint appeared within the red-haired lord's starlit eyes, which remained locked upon the youth amidst his thinning patience. "I am disappointed with your conduct, Joachim. Do not _ever_ question my judgment in front of a guest again! Lest you have forgotten, _I_ am the master of this castle."

A tiny smirk appeared briefly across the young man's lips when he replied silkily. "Is your confidence so low you are compelled to remind me of it constantly? I need not hear it again-"

Walter abruptly rose from the table, his dark eyes flashing a shade of bright crimson when he roared. "Enough! Get out of my sight you wretched little cur! Return to your sulking, for it seems that is all you are capable of doing, willingly!"

The other lord raised his hand threateningly, prepared to use his powers to strike the young man from across the room. Joachim immediately floated back toward the door, a twinge of fear seeping within his pale blue irises. Like a dog scolded by its master, his head lowered, for he was unwilling to dignify Walter's insult with a response. The young man's silence prompted the red-haired lord to flick his hand in annoyance whilst he reprimanded him.

"You are not above serving me, Joachim! If I tell you to do something, you will do it without question. I cannot eat with that human lying there. Take him someplace to rest until he awakens!" The harshness in Walter's voice left no opportunity for further objection.

If he refused to depart with Mathias he would face his lord's wrath. Though the steely look in Joachim's eyes was obvious, he refrained from pushing his lord too far. He bowed, his ivory hair curtaining around his ashen visage whilst he replied shortly. "As you wish…" His eyes glanced to Mathias' body sprawled across the floor. He concentrated on the human with his mind until he succeeded in lifting the man into the air so that it floated behind him. Although it was an eerie sight, his slender form swept toward the door without a backward glance, refusing to look at Walter's smirking face. He had to use almost all of his power to keep Mathias suspended.

* * *

By the time he reached the small room with the stone angel, he almost dropped the man on the floor when a sudden feeling of tiredness overwhelmed him. He ignored it as best he could, managing to gently set the fallen knight at the base of the angel. Mathias was naturally pale, however his flesh had taken on a ghostly white tone. The man's head lolled to one side with wisps of his chestnut locks falling untidily around his face and below his shoulders. If he had not known better, he would have mistaken him for being dead. There was no sign of breathing, no movement or flicker of life. _He does not understand what he has wrought upon himself. Someday he will realize he made a mistake… _his eyes lingered on the fresh bite mark clearly visible in the flesh of his neck. The mark was red and swollen from the two puncture marks of fangs. He turned and swiftly hurried to the door, almost forgetting to usher it open when he made his way into the corridor. The castle was enveloped in an eerie silence, which only heightened his disarray until he looked at the five round stone tablets on the platform leading to different wings of the castle. He chose a random disc in the floor and stood upon it, not caring where he went as long as it was away from the sleeping man. Within seconds, a white light surrounded the stone, and he felt the object lift off the ground.

Joachim drifted off the teleport disc, only to notice it had taken him to an overgrown garden.

He looked around in amazement and glided his floating body over the stone covered ground, which was cracked and worn, though ornately beautiful because of the unique patterns carved into it. The stone, along with the garden itself, was illuminated by streams of pale moonlight filtering through the high windows. His eyes were drawn to a carving rendition within a flat tablet between the pillars that portrayed a graceful woman with her hands clasped together as if praying. It was ironic to see something that was so serene, in what he knew was a place crawling with monsters, the kinds of which no man had ever lived to tell about. He looked up at the stained glass windows lining the walls of its massive space, which allowed the moonlight to filter through and create three circular beams across the floor. Patches of grass grew near the walls. The garden's moonlit atmosphere gave the illusion of daytime.

He made his way to the door at the far end of the room, where not to his surprise skeleton monsters awaited him. He watched their jerky movements, his ears twitching upon hearing the sounds of their bones clicking over the stone floor. Perhaps, when he was a naïve little boy, he would have laughed at their ridiculous motions, which resembled marionettes on a string. The creatures were painfully slow, even for monsters. Despite their swinging clubs, his swords would be able to shatter them to pieces instantly. Although he thirsted for the opportunity to fight, knowing they would make excellent target practice, they stared at him with their glowing red eyes. Not a moment had passed when they spun around and fled from him in fear.

_It seems they know about my connection to Walter. _

The moment Joachim approached the stone doors; he paused when he looked at one of the patches of grass near the wall where a small clump of flowers grew. His eyes narrowed at the sight, but his body felt mechanically drawn to them, which he did not resist until he came upon the flowers and gazed down at them solemnly. _Violets were Catherine's favorite flower…and here they grow before me as if cursing me of her memory._ He picked a single violet. his lips began to tremble while his fingers trailed down the soft petals of the violet, until he drew the flower closer to him and sniffed is sweet scent. He turned away from the patch of grass, still holding the flower. After passing through a wide darker passageway lined with torches flicking a strange purple fire, he felt his hands tighten around the stems of the violets.

He wandered through several hallways complete with dimly lit torches. Occasionally, he entered large open rooms, and one of which contained a massive colored plant with roots beneath its large enclosed flower that was able to move it slowly across the floor. Joachim paused and watched it move away from him and to the wall, where it stopped and remained. Again he continued on his way, all the while noticing as he went deeper into the garden area vines grew thicker over the stone floor and walls, and the pleasant smell of flowers enticed his senses. He listened to the trickling sound of water running through the walls, and felt the dampness condensate upon his cold skin.

He moved through a massive open square shaped room, where he looked up and caught a glimpse of the starry night sky. The cold air made puffs of his breath escape into the blackened sky, and at the far corner of the room was the door alit by candlelight that was sustained in candleholders along the walls. Above perched on a ledge that surrounded the highest part of the walls he noticed a large gargoyle. For a moment he gazed up at it in curiosity, until he noticed the creature's glowing red irises. It resembled a dragon with a long beak like a bird and a lizard tail. Joachim watched it open its wings wide and fan them out, before it leapt off the ledge and flapped noisily toward him. "What do you want?" he asked it reproachfully, glaring up at it and not forgetting to ready his swords.

"I am not here to bother you, milord." The gargoyle hissed. "It seems many have taken a liking to your presence."

The young man glared up at it momentarily, watching the creature encircle above him in the air. Occasionally it swooped down to get a closer look, but quickly veered away when one of his swords threatened to slash it into rubble. "Oh _really_." He replied, allowing a slight smirk to play across his lips upon staring at the strange creature. "Why? I have had nothing to do with your like since my arrival here, and I find most monsters like you to be quite the nuisance." He brushed away a strand of his shoulder length white hair, giving the impression of ignoring the gargoyle despite its persistence.

"That is exactly the reason. Unlike Walter, you do not treat us as though we are nothing-"

"Of all things, I am talking to piece of stone…" Joachim shook his head and sighed, hardly glancing at it until it hissed again. "It is because of creatures like you, many who come here have died!"

"Walter is our master and we must obey him. The plants whisper…they say you hate the one who made you immortal."

"What do you not understand about minding your own affairs?" He held up a hand and drifted further to the door, however within the candlelight he stopped and sighed upon hearing nothing except silence besides the wordless flapping of the gargoyle. "Go and tell Walter if you seek his favor, for the consequences matter little to me." He turned around to stare at the gargoyle once again, only to see it flapping in place in the air staring back.

"We do not desire to tell our master anything." It replied, and Joachim's eyes widened when it continued. "Quite the contrary, we shall keep silent. Milord, we do not desire conflict with you now. We have learned you, though vastly above us, demand respect. Respect is what you shall receive."

Joachim's brow furrowed with his scathing answer. "Why? Why do you monsters wish to do that if Walter is one whom you must respect? I want nothing to do with your kind-"

"If you are to be the victor in this, we shall not hesitate to reside under your bidding."

He folded his arms once again and tapped his fingers with perplexity. "I am not interested in ruling over this God-forsaken place." His voice trailed away while his eyes watched the gargoyle flap higher into the air until it seated itself back where it had once been on the ledge. The creature blinked several times and turned its head to stare down at him.

"None of us know what you intend." It hissed quietly. His face became expressionless as he resumed to drift toward the door, but again the gargoyle replied in fainted warning. "Be wary, milord, during your exploration through this garden."

He sighed and without turning to look at it he rolled his eyes and snapped. "What do you mean? If you are merely trying to toy with me, I will make dust out of you!"

One of his swords tinted red to confirm his statement, and without hesitation the monster swiftly hissed. "She has not been in a good mood lately and has become quick to anger."

Joachim turned in place again and looked up at the gargoyle. "What are you talking about?" he inquired sharply, however the gargoyle closed its eyes and resumed to be as still as its stone surface defined. With a shake of his head, he drifted to the door and waved it open to leave the room.

Upon entering another hallway, he realized he had not been in a good mood in a long time. The thought made his eyes burn anxiously, but he drifted through various hallways and similar rooms. No monsters attacked him, but some were quite peculiar. It wasn't until he approached the path to the door on the opposite side that one suddenly burst from the earth and made him jump back. It was a tall plant-like skeleton, its stem and flower made almost entirely out of bone with the exception of its strange closed red petals. It excreted a puff of green mist into the air, and swayed lazily when he stared up at its frame in astonishment.

He drifted to the wooden door on the other side and entered through it, passing along rooms that resembled the same and consumed with plants until at last he entered a room surrounded on its entire hexagon formed walls by massive statues. The statues were made of a dark yellow stone and had the sitting body of a cat, a long neck almost like a snake's body but thicker, and the face of a human. On the backs of the statues were folded wings. They were so bizarre he stopped and stared at them, almost failing to see that a door was hidden behind one of them. Upon sighting it, he sent his swords hacking at the stone creature until it crumbled before him. The youth flew toward the door and opened it, curious to see where it led. He wandered down the lengthy hallway, seemingly drawn to what lay behind the door. It was a larger door than most others, and the second he approached a strange power overwhelmed him.

His eyes glinted as he levitated inside the room, and found himself in a massive square shaped room with various small pillars connected to the walls on all sides, and complete with strange engravings. The room's floor was tiled with circular patterned square tiles that made an intricate design of dark brown and gold on the floor. Leading to each wall of the room was a tiny pathway of tiles, and he leisurely followed one until it led him to the wall where the stones which formed an alcove in the wall. "What are those? Are they…" he paused when he floated closer and reached out to touch one of the statues.

The statues depicted knights holding their weapons. One had a rounded shield in front of him with his sword drawn and held out, another was on its hands and knees and bent over as if in pain, and the one in front of him was leaning back with its hands held up and its face turned to one side as if in the middle of a scream. The one next to the central statue looked as if it was in the middle of a run, while the last was staring directly at him. _What are these for? They look so realistic that they do not seem to fit in with this garden atmosphere…_ he narrowed his eyes and leaned back, before he floated away from the wall only to find two more of the strange statues hidden in the darkness near the pillars by the wall. "What…?" his eyes widened at the sight, and though he did need to breathe he gasped sharply upon hearing a voice resound through the room.

"I am glad to see there is an admirer of my work. Those are not mere statues, for I prefer the more realistic proportions…as realistic as you are."

He whirled in place and glanced in panic around the room, until his gaze fell upon the wall directly behind him at the opposite side where the bust of a large portrait of a woman was carved. His eyes tinted but remained drawn to the image, where facing his were eyes made of stone to meet an almost seductive yet wicked expression of a woman. Instead of having hair, numerous snakes projected from her scalp with their mouths frozen open, revealing the points of razor sharp fangs. As his eyes fell upon her, parts of the stone crumbled when the head of the womanly creature suddenly detached itself from the wall. Joachim quickly found himself staring into yellow colored eyes, and a partially opened mouth that fully exposed her sharpened teeth. There were seven snakes that accompanied her, three on either side of her face, and the last above her forehead in the center. The vampire levitated backward toward the wall, nearly colliding with one of the stone statues, not daring to turn his back for a moment.

"So," Joachim tried to look away. "Those statues were once…human. Now I know what you are…" he formed his lips into an expressionless state, and he avoided looking at her face.

The same loud hisses sounded from the snakes as they flicked their forked tongues between their lips. Her voice was not at all pleasant to listen to, almost altered to a sound that gave it an ever-present serration. "It is not often I get to meet someone so intriguing – as well as handsome. You also seem to have good taste. Is my art impressive?" A strange, yet gruesome smile, creased the corners of her lips.

Joachim kept his face tilted toward the stone floor. Instead he watched the light swirl pattern of the tiles as if they were more interesting than the monster in front of him. "That is not art, for art is created from the mind. You merely created them from your gaze." He snapped, and slowly looked up to face her.

All at once her eyes flashed with anger, and her voice rose along with the hissing sounds from the seven snakes. "How dare you insult me!"A smirk crossed the corner of his lips, and he raised his head to stare her directly in her eyes. Tendrils of his ivory hair swished with his movement and fell around his face in silken strands, as the purple mist surrounding his body intensified.

"You will sincerely regret your insults! I shall not tolerate them, for you have become quite an annoyance to me!"

Joachim cocked his head to one side, observing her ever-growing impatience but maintaining his expression in the same form. "I have no wish to continue speaking with you. I can see why you receive few visitors. Perhaps, they would rather be turned to stone than look at you."

"What insolence! You had better hope I make your death less painful than I have in mind, for that is the last defiance I shall receive from you!" Another loud hiss sounded from the snakes, and from her lips when she floated forward toward him to lessen the gap between them. Joachim levitated back, and yet again almost crashed into one of the statues right behind him. He felt part of the blade one held in its hand hit against the blade of one of the swords aligned near his back.

Her eyes glowed momentarily, and Joachim continued to remain where he was until her voice calmed upon hearing no reply from him. "A brat like you will not deter me. I would very much enjoy adding you to my gallery, for you have a rather lovely appearance – slender yet defined and smooth. It makes me wonder how I shall present you after I turn your beautiful body into a statue." His thoughts wandered to his swords, however the closer she came to nearly being upon him, the more his defiance became known. "The last thing I desire is to damage my newest addition, and I will have to make this process equally as swift to end it here and now. _Turn to stone_!" Beams shot from her eyes and moved across the floor.

Joachim attempted to dart out of the path of the two glowing beams, however they glided overtop him but he felt nothing. "Foolish wretch, I am a vampire! Your stone changing powers are ineffective against me!" His smirk became more prevalent across his lips, which in turn caused a glint to reflect within his eyes.

"If you cannot die, I can at least make you suffer! I shall grind you into the ground and when you are near begging for forgiveness I will take you as my servant." Her voice rasped in an enraged hiss, while her floating head darted at him and the snakes on either side of her face hissed and lashed out with their teeth.

Joachim skillfully darted away from her lashes, ignoring the snapping jaws of the snakes but taking note of their sharp gleaming teeth. Once he had distanced himself, his hands clenched into fists. "That little statement has just caused me to become greatly annoyed, which you will soon regret!"

Without hesitation he glared at her when she moved to turn and face him again, and the pointed blades of his swords were sent forth one after another as fast as lightning. The blades hit her directly as a loud screech sounded from her lips as they returned to him and encircled around his body. "Damn you!"She growled loudly as the snakes reached their jaws for the floor and ripped out pieces of the tile. Joachim stared until the snakes tossed the debris feebly at him, which he dodged aside and avoided. Yet again he sent his blades forth, swiping sideways at her in the air and drawing blood over the floor when they struck her face.

Her yellowed eyes pulsated in rage, as a scornful laugh parted from his lips and he tossed his head back. "Weak and pathetic. I think I will use you for target practice snake demon, since I have nothing but time, it seems…" he levitated slightly higher off the floor when she moved her body upward over the tile and turned her frame so her face looked directly downward. Another growl sounded from her lips when she opened her mouth wider and allowed a torrent of snakes to slither out and move over the floor. Joachim wrinkled his face at the sight. He sent his swords swiping at her while she sent the snakes at him, however since he levitated they could not reach him. Joachim watched more of her blood fill the air upon being slashed by the sideward swipes of the blades, and once they returned she righted herself to face him and moved across the floor in his direction, spilling bloody tears in her wake.

Again his swords returned to encircle him, and he quickly sent them out in her direction as she moved to charge forward at him. In the blink of an eye the swords severed each of the snakes from her form and caused them to fall onto the floor in heaps. A chuckle vibrated through his throat in response, as the severed snake heads hissed and wriggled like worms on the floor around where she floated. Within a moment her head lost its balance and crashed onto the floor, and Joachim responsively drifted toward where her head lay. Upon seeing the wriggling snake parts all over the floor, he allowed one of his swords to swipe downward at it and hit it up into the air. Instantly another sword bounced the snakehead and neck to keep it in the air, as the swords hit it between one another while a chuckle parted through Joachim's lips. A loud screech sounded from her lips in response while she staggered her breaths. "I…will…not be defeated! You, vampire…shall regret this…Walter will…"

His eyes narrowed while he floated back toward the door, ignoring her haggard breaths while he waved it open and left the room, refusing to look back.


	19. Chapter 19: Bloodbath

**Author's Notes: **Welcome to chapter 19 of my story. If you were getting bored of Joachim and Walter standing around talking all the time, this chapter will (hopefully) make things more interesting. Not only is there plenty of blood and gore, but things are starting to get physical between Joachim and Walter now. I hope I wrote that part well *twitches anxiously* Also, I'm sure its becoming clearer that Joachim's state of mind is...well...a bit off lately. And its only going to go downhill from here, I'm afraid (yay?) (T_T) Joachim's obsession with Walter is starting to seem kind of creepy...though I'm sure Walter is eager to take advantage of it.

Also, a tiny bit of Walter's personal history is revealed in this chapter, as well. Walter isn't really clear about anything though, so I'll leave you (the reader) to figure it out.

*****This story now has a beta reader!***** - **Rahar Moonfire **fixed the grammatical/spelling errors prior to the release of this chapter. Thank you!

Special Thanks

As always, thank you if you are following this story, even if you don't review. However, reviews are always appreciated. I love reading feedback/constructive criticism. Not only does it improve my writing, but it allows me to know what people think of my work. If you haven't left any reviews yet, I hope to hear from you in the future.

*sends Walter to kidnap **AzariyaBelmont*** I hope you are still reading! :D You don't want to miss these next few chapters, especially since you are Walter's fangirl!

**Rahar Moonfire:** Thank you so much for taking the time to edit this chapter. The changes you made make reading it a lot smoother than before. I'm still worried about the sexual content since I don't want to write something that sucks (ahem, I would like you to read chapter 20 and tell me what you think). I hope the sexual stuff in this chapter is satisfactory (ha!) and doesn't seem too random. I really appreciate the fact you have read/followed this story since the very beginning. It takes a lot of patience and dedication to read a story that's as long as this one and review EVERY chapter to date. :) I hope you are still enjoying it. *cheers*

**LateNiteSlacker:** As always, thank you so much for reviewing! :D I love reading your comments, and the fact you have noticed Joachim's declining mental state. Basically, from this chapter onward it is a downhill slide. His obsession with Walter is starting to get a bit creepy, IMO (and I'm the one who wrote this story lol!) For some reason, there isn't a lot of Mathias fanfiction before or after LoI. I always wanted to know how he duped Walter. I could see him being excellent at manipulating people to get what he wants, since he is a tactician, after all (next chapter you will see what I mean especially). The only thing is, since so little is written about Mathias, I hope he's not OC. Also, I know you didn't really think there was a yaoi relationship between Joachim/Walter but I swear it will make *more* sense by chapter 20. And, as for Joachim's fate when Leon arrives...well...you will see, eventually. LoI is full of inconsistencies...which are extremely convenient! *wink*

**Chapter XIX**

Remembering Mathias, Joachim drifted down one of the castle corridors but stopped when the sight of the blue tinted door caught his gaze. Almost instantly, his ears picked up a terrible yell muffled on the other side of the door. The yelling continued, almost like a howl of agony so severe he nearly pressed his hands over his ears to block it from his mind. Familiar footsteps prompted him to notice Walter emerge from within the shadows. The other vampire's blood red armor shone when he slinked past the windows in the hall. The red moonlight cast a dull, ominous glow around his muscular form. For a moment, he gave off the malice of a demon whilst his hard, black eyes cast themselves upon the pale youth. The sound of his rich, eloquent voice made Joachim fall completely still. "I see you have returned to tend to our guest," he observed. A knowing smile spread across his lips as his eyes drifted to the light blue door. With a huff, he flicked aside the veil of fiery bangs away from his face. A perturbed glint refracted within them from the sound of Mathias' anguished screams. "Some do not react well to the curse. It seems a part of his soul still clings to life."

"Is there nothing we can do?" Joachim returned his lord's curiosity with a repugnant glare. However, within himself, he reflected upon his own experience. The pain Mathias endured was not unlike his when he was turned. It felt like centuries ago, despite the fact the two tiny scars on his neck were still fresh.

Walter waved him away, his dark eyes narrowing. "The curse affects each human differently." A slight smile crossed his lips, his pale white skin partially silhouetted by the moon's hellish glow. Like a demon enjoying the fruits of its destruction, he ushered grandly to the night beyond. The sky matched his eyes, which for a moment, glinted faintly with interest. "Mathias shall suffer greatly for his betrayal. God, it seems, is unwilling to release him so easily." Joachim stared up at him wordlessly until Walter stepped closer, extending one of his gauntlet-covered hands. "You are trembling…" He continued to stare in silence, parting his lips with subtle gasps as his lord's fingers brushed away strands of his ivory hair. He had to raise his chin slightly to be able to look at Walter's face, and trembled upon feeling the fingers rest upon the scar on his neck. For a moment, Walter paused, trailing the tips of his black gauntlets across the contoured surface in slow, even circles. "Mathias will fall and accept the blood covenant as you did. You and I will dine out tonight. My blood cannot sustain you forever, Joachim…"

He attempted to pull away from his lord's touch; his pale blue eyes widened, shining like sapphires in the shadows, whilst his shoulders tensed. The idea of killing had suddenly become so very real. No longer could he avoid it through the sweet warmth of Walter's blood. The creature that had nursed him since the night of his turning suddenly revoked the one thing that quenched his urges. Joachim fixated his gaze upon the other lord, his lip curving into a pained frown. He reached and clamped his hand securely around Walter's wrist. The cold steel feeling from his gauntlet nearly made him pull away. "As you wish." He replied, trying to hide his fear of what was to come.

The red haired vampire broke the silence that followed. "It is night in the human realm, now. We must leave immediately." Joachim pressed his lips together. A barely audible growl vibrated through his throat, and his eyes locked on Walter continuing leisurely ahead. Beams of moonlight flooded over his form when he passed a window, illuminating the vampire's red hair and pastel colored skin. "So," he continued. "Have you begun to marvel at the wonders of my castle?"

"It…is not as dull as I first thought, and that is the only credit I will give. For being the master of a castle, you fail to maintain the wings within it."

A low chuckle filled the air, which nearly startled him into stopping until he saw Walter glance over his shoulder with smile pressed across his ashen lips. "If I spent my time gardening, I would be unable to subject humans to my games. Though many have ventured to my castle, hoping to reclaim the one they love most, their valiant efforts are always for naught. Perhaps, to a human, my game is unfair. To me, it is simply entertaining." The other lord stopped turned to face him. Walter's expression was serious, his eyes darkening with his words. "I enjoyed our little game, Joachim. To the victor go the spoils."

The young man swept by him, ignoring his tall, armored frame as he muttered tersely. "Spoils indeed. I would not be so proud if I were you. You spoil everything you touch, Walter."

"I do not desire to ruin our evening by being baited into a quarrel with you. After all, it is clear you seek battles you cannot win, especially when you seek them with me." Walter's reply was calm and dignified. The coy grin upon his lips broadened with his silky reply. "I would like to see how long your words last centuries from now. Tonight is a night you shall truly understand what it means to be a vampire. Like most things, immortality has a price. Ours is blood."

Tendrils of his fiery red hair fell around his pasty cheeks. The longer he gazed at the vampire's expression, the more the silence consumed them both until they halted upon the castle's lowered drawbridge. Joachim breathed in the crisp night air, his eyes glistening under the crimson moon's ominous light. The glow cast a red shadow across his ashen face, giving him an unusually sinister appearance. "We must make haste; too much time has already been lost." Walter's voice resounded through the darkness. The other lord's attention diverted to the gravel road ahead of them. "Flight must be obtained..."

"What are you talking about? I don't know how to fly!" Joachim gazed after Walter, who turned and replaced his former expressionless face with a familiar smile.

"Ah," he paused and placed a hand to his chin, running the gauntlet-covered hand in slow even strokes when his eyes fell on the young man. "You, my naïve little scholar, shall learn transfiguration. Normally, only older vampires can change themselves into a wolf or a bat."

"By older, are you referring to yourself?"

Walter returned the insult with a graceful nod, his dark eyes glinting in the dim red light. The vampire's chilling look made the young man hold his tongue. "Regretfully, I do not know my age." A low chuckle escaped his lips whilst he shrugged, the coils of his blood-red hair spilling against his face. The vampire's striking beauty stunned Joachim, even though he resented himself for it. A tint of crimson seemed to appear within the young man's lifeless cheeks when Walter's great hand cupped his face, drawing Joachim's pale blue eyes into their black, mysterious spheres. "Although time means nothing to me… you mean everything."

He tried to form the words he wished to say, however, the only word he could make out was the other lord's name. "Walter…"

"What is the matter?" The red-haired lord asked, almost coyly, noting the blush that swept across Joachim's once colorless face.

When he attempted to pull him closer, Joachim abruptly turned away. His fine lips formed a scowl as he hissed under his breath. "You said you could teach me transfiguration. Beyond the border, darkness only lasts a few hours. Perhaps you should explain, rather than wasting time attempting to flatter me."

"Forgive me, for I did not think compliments were a waste of time." Walter's eyes narrowed. With a huff, the red-haired lord ushered to the black night sky above them. Part of his smooth, elegant face was shadowed in darkness when he turned away from the moonlight. A flicker of red appeared within his irises whilst he continued coolly. "Simply envision the form of a bat in your mind and it will be so." Joachim blinked several times, trying to understand the context of his lord's explanation. How could he become something by thinking about it? The concept was absurd and impossible. However, Walter took quick notice of his doubt and used the opportunity to his advantage. With a smug wave of the hand, he grinned and added. "I see… perhaps an example will suffice. Once you become a bat, envisioning your human form will return you to your original shape." An array of smoke exploded into the air and rapid wing beats broke the silence. The smoke cleared to reveal a large bat. It's massive wings were at least five feet long. The skin stretched across the wings was so light that when the bat flew higher into the sky, the red moon's glow shone dimly through them like curtains. The bat's fur was deep reddish brown, faintly resembling the color of dried blood.

The young man gasped. Walter was nowhere in sight – and presence of the gigantic bat spoke for itself. The creature soared into the night sky and circled about him in the air, almost mockingly. If Walter could do it, he was more than eager to prove himself capable of the same feat. He tried to imagine was it was like to be bat. He pictured large furry ears, tiny feet, and leathery wings. When he was a lord his subjects feared bats and wolves because they were the servants of the damned. He swallowed what was left of his pride when he pictured a bat in his mind's eye. A terrible power filled his body as he felt himself changing, growing smaller, lighter, faster, and nearly weightless. Within seconds, his body acquired the form of an ivory white vampire bat. He flapped his wings until he was completely airborne. The night's cold wind carried him higher into the sky until he reached Walter's elevation. His glossy white fur shone a tint of red under the crimson moon. Even in bat form, he was not as large as Walter or as strong. His mind had to think about being a bat, for changing shape alone was not enough to sustain the transformation. The constant strain it put upon him mentally was almost too great to bear. He winced as a terrible headache threatened to change him back into his humanoid shape. By then, the ground was so far away that a fall from such a distance would injure him severely.

He pushed himself to maintain his concentration, his effort rewarded when Walter's great form flew near him."You have done well." The sound filled his ears and mind, but when his mouth gaped in surprise Walter's beady bat-like eyes twinkled. "I see you are surprised we can still talk. Do not be, for to any human we sound like bats. Come, now is the time to learn how to fly in this form. Follow me." When he got a closer look at Walter's face, his newly turned bat eyes widened to see the large upturned nose and ears, as well as the protruding fangs. In his opinion, vampire bats certainly were not among nature's beautiful creatures. He flapped after Walter while keeping his eyes on the vampire's massive bat form. When he scanned the ground, a pulsating wave caused a grid-like map of the forest to appear. Sounds and shapes were different in bat form. Although his senses improved as a vampire, it was nothing compared with a bat. He could hear and see almost everything – from the call of an owl to the rushing of a nearby stream.

He followed Walter in the sky. The other lord's bat form was so big it was difficult not to see him. As a bat, he was faster and more alert to his surroundings. However, he was uncertain of how long he could keep up with Walter while concentrating on his new form. Thankfully, he did not have to concentrate for long. The thatched rooftops of houses slowly became visible in the distance. When they had reached the outskirts of the village, Walter swooped low to the ground and vanished again. He followed the other lord, uncertain of where he went. Before he could even let out a screech, his tiny body was snatched by the red-haired lord's gauntlet. The cold steel chafed against his furry body whilst Walter dangled him upside down from his feet like a chicken ready for slaughter. The glint in the other lord's eyes prompted him to bear his incisors and snap at the vampire's face. "You have much to learn." Walter's rich voice filled his ears. Somehow, it sounded louder to him as a bat and more imposing. Despite struggling to free himself, the other lord added with mock-amazement. "I am surprised you managed to sustain your bat form this long. Impressive. Though, if you hope to match my abilities, you will require more practice."

The moment he attempted to retort, Walter's hand released him and his tiny form fell upon the ground like lead. His concentration lifted from the impact of the fall. He did not even have to picture himself as a human for his body to return to its original shape. The tiny bat wings gave way to arms, longer legs, silky white hair, and ashen skin. Within a moment, he was wearing his indigo robes and chest armor, and was sprawled over a worn dirt pathway. A jolt of pain encompassed his mind as he sat up in a daze, until his thoughts focused enough to lift him off the ground into a levitating stance. "How dare you treat me like a toy!" Joachim rasped and bared his fangs. His rage was so strong he was tempted hit Walter in the face. He drew a breath, ignoring the demon's laughter when he continued. "I should hardly be surprised. Only you would do something so vindictive."

Walter raised an eyebrow and rolled his eyes. "_Heaven forbid_ I displease you, Joachim." He stared at Walters's creamy white flesh under the moon's pallid glow. "Come." His lord whispered darkly. "The night is still young, and I look forward to examining what is on the menu this evening."

Joachim's mouth nearly gaped again after hearing his words, but he kept it closed and floated at Walter's side, feeling the vampire's eyes lingering on him. They drifted a few meters up the path when the town came into view. He sighed when Walter looked away and at the silent town awaiting them, and enveloped in the peaceful slumber of the night. "Perfect." The red-haired lord whispered. "They have no idea what awaits them. Children sleep in their beds, whilst men leave the taverns to go home to their wives. Such simple, pointless lives." The moon's white light indicated they were beyond the border of Eternal Night. The other lord's blood red armor gleamed under the white moonlight. Walter paused when his vigilant eyes noticed a group of priests walking down the cobblestone road, possibly returning from evening mass. The other lord ushered to the priests, his eyes tinting a shade of red from sighting the crucifixes worn around their necks. "They think those holy relics will save them from their fate. They do not realize that God turns a blind eye to vampires. We are slayers, bringers of death, and judgment. Centuries of violence in the name of God have stained their black cassocks red with blood. I can almost smell it as they draw nearer. Empty hearts, reciting empty prayers, to a God who no longer listens…"

Joachim's brow furrowed as the priests drew nearer. The swords quickened their encirclement around him as raging thoughts threatened to destroy his composure. The young man's dagger-like eyes had a will to stab the priests before he could even command his swords.

"Do you know what humans would say if they saw you now?" Walter glanced at him, his voice lowering so the priests would not overhear them talking. "They would call you a monster, a demon, or even Satan. We are loved by the night and surrounded by misconceptions those 'holy' men perpetuate." He felt Walter's cold gauntlet covered hand caress his cheek. The red-haired lord continued, his voice softening. "I simply do what comes naturally to me…for nature is indeed cruel, is it not? Occasionally, I envy humans, even though I must hunt them. They can see the sun…something I have dreamed of but never laid eyes upon."

"You were born this way?" He gave the other lord a disbelieving look, his eyes narrowing when Walter turned away. For some reason, pity and grief overwhelmed him when he noticed the pain that had briefly appeared on his lord's face. It was rare for the other lord to show sadness. Yet, when he saw it, he wished to ease his suffering. _Why, despite all your wrongdoings, does my heart long to comfort you? I am here, with you, and only you. _He touched the other lord's cheek and caressed the smooth, cold flesh with his pale hand when their eyes met. "I did not know..."

A low, half-hearted chuckle escaped Walter's whilst his dark eyes glistened. "I do not despise myself for being what I am. Does a cat despise itself for being a cat? What of a horse, a bird, or a fish? Doubt will not change my fate."

Joachim was uncertain if Walter was trying to convince him or himself of that. An impious chuckle parted from his lips, and he raised his head to gaze at the full moon suspended in the sky like a lantern. His hair streamed around his cheeks in ashen wavelets as a red tint appeared within his icy blue spheres. The glow in his eyes increased even more and when he glanced at Walter the vampire already parted his lips to reveal the protrusion of his fangs. With a mocking chuckle, he called out to them. "Say your prayers. You will need them."

"_Hail Mary full of Grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death Amen!_" The priest shielded himself with the large wooden cross, but Joachim merely snarled at him in response before he ripped the cross from the man's grasp. With the bat of an eyelid he sent one of his blades forth, which sliced the priest through his cassock and caused blood to spatter into the air and over the face of the young assailant. A deep slash was ripped in the man's chest, nearly slicing him in half as he crumpled to the ground in a pool of blood.

Walter walked next to him, his eyes glinting and following the other screaming priests attempting to run in the opposite direction. In moments, he suspended the three remaining priests in midair. With one, feral swipe, the red-haired lord slashed their throats open with this gauntlets. Blood streamed down the slits in their necks as they hung in the air, gasping for breath and unable to receive it. Walter stood before them, his dark eyes looking up at their horrified expressions whilst they were slowly dying. The vampire's face was cold and expressionless. A deathly beauty radiated from Walter's form whilst he lifted his hand and opened his palm, allowing the blood streaming from the bodies to drain upon his outstretched fingers. A low, barely audible chuckle escaped his throat as he pressed the bloody gauntlet to his lips and ran his tongue across the cold, steel surface. The three holy men fell in a heap upon the ground and moved no more. Torrents of blood flowed around the bodies and seeped around Walter's boots. Without looking at them, the other lord kicked one of the bodies and whirled, his black cape sweeping behind him like unfurled wings.

Curious and frightened townspeople began to appear on the streets, leaving the safety of their homes in order to glimpse at death. People awakened from a dreamy sleep, only to see a nightmare waiting for them in the darkness. Joachim smiled and waved his swords in the air, his eyes observing their elegant glowing forms. A strong scent made his nostrils flare when he raised his head and took in the subtle smell of blood that began to seep across the cobblestone road. More screams pierced the air, and he whirled to see Walter walking down the street killing people as he went. The other vampire lunged and grabbed a man firmly by the neck. When the man tried to impale him with a pitchfork, the demon wrenched it out of his hand with his power and sent the weapon into the man's chest. Gurgled cries broke the silence of the night whilst the prongs of the pitchfork jutted through the man's chest. With a snarl, Walter tossed him away. A spray of blood flew through the air until the body landed a few meters down the road.

"Kill them." Walter ordered and turned to face the paling young man. His expression was serious, though Joachim could not deny catching the glimpse of delight in his eyes when more humans attempted to subdue him. The humans were like rabbits trying to kill a wolf. The vampire made barely an effort when he killed them. He watched Walter seize a middle-aged man by the neck and bend it to such an odd degree that it snapped like a toothpick. Despite humankind's dominion over nature, against the red-haired demon they had little influence.

Joachim never witnessed such a brutal display of power until that night. Truly, he did not know what Walter was capable of until he watched the creature mangle and destroy everything in his path. A thick, smear of blood followed the vampire as he walked casually down the streets as though off on an evening stroll. A few men attempted to surprise him by darting out of alleyways as he walked by. Swords, spears, and any weapon they could find glinted in the moonlight whilst they swung their weapons at the passing vampire. Without even looking at them, Walter immobilized them in mid-swing, his eyes glowing a shade of red as his claw-like gauntlets tore into flesh and bone. Screams filled the night. Horrible, agonizing screams as humans fell and lay on the road, dying beneath his feet. Walter merely kicked them away and continued onward. Joachim could not remove his eyes from him. The other lord's tall, armored frame, rippling muscles, blood-red hair, and ashen flesh were majestic and beautiful. Death itself was beautiful when he looked at Walter. The other lord did not hesitate or bat an eyelid at death. In fact, he suspected the demon feared nothing except the sunlight. Only the sun could challenge the night's dominance over the earth. But even then, Walter's ability to create a realm of eternal darkness defied the light. Walter was the adversary of God, perhaps even the devil himself, for he felt nothing when he killed. The devil had been an angel. Satan once resided within heaven's gates and knew the light. The red-haired demon, on the other hand, dwelled only in darkness. There was no compromising with Walter. If the vampire wanted to take a life, he took it without question.

Even though he did not wish to admit it, Walter mesmerized him completely. For whatever reason, the demon had selected him to be his eternal companion. The one creature on earth who would understand what it meant to dwell in darkness. Indeed, he understood all too well, what it felt like to be hated for being what he was. Though he looked upon Walter's cruelty with a sneer, deep inside his tainted heart, he knew he loved him for it. Loved the one who had damned him. It was perverse, and should have disgusted him but he smiled. Walter was his. His lord's beauty, grace, and elegance belonged to him. He was the demon's favorite. The smell of blood that surrounded him was intoxicating. Yet, he almost cursed the fact that his conscience was far stronger than his hatred. None of the humans they killed had done him any harm or ill will. At least, he thought so, until an enraged voice startled him from behind.

His eyes narrowed when they fell upon two human males bounding toward him carrying daggers and lances. Joachim raised his head and smirked as they approached, and without hesitation flew toward them and swords encircled him once more and slashed at them, knocking their weapons out of their hands. "Fools!" He hissed between gritted teeth, allowing his fangs to gleam in the moon's pale light. "You stand no chance! Lowly humans…perhaps it would be merciful if I ended your pathetic lives! If you are stupid enough to attack me, you deserve to die!" The two humans writhed when he swung his arm and knocked them back like flies. _Kill them all! _His thoughts commanded the swords behind him into action. Within seconds, his blades flew away and hacked at the men with quick, precise swipes. Joachim's eyes narrowed as he watched the swords gut them like pigs. The swords sliced a line from their jugular down to their torso. It was a clean, even line, which allowed their insides to spill out of them onto the ground. Blood and entrails seeped around the corpse as the youth levitated above them, watching them writhe and tremble until death made them still. "Worthless." He muttered to himself. The truth of the matter was, human were weak and inferior.

He looked ahead and noticed that his lord had vanished. Nevertheless, the screams resounding into the night made it clear that Walter had not gone far. He drifted through the empty streets, his hair cascading against his ashen flesh as he took in his surroundings. Blood, corpses, and death were everywhere. Though his words were cold, he knew there was no going back…the life as he had lived it, as a lord, was gone. Humans would fear him, now. They would see him and know he was one of the damned whether he succumbed to the curse or not. The realization made him grimace whilst he floated through the streets. A lone figure standing a few feet away caught his attention. It was a woman, with thick, black hair, and wearing a tattered dress. Undoubtedly, her clothing indicated she was a peasant, perhaps the wife of a farmer or serf. Despite her poverty, she stood there, looking at him in silence; staring into death without the will to flee. Joachim stared back and hesitated within a few feet of her. Though she feared him, her glassy gaze did not relent from looking at him for a moment. She was utterly transfixed by the sight of his pale form and icy eyes. If Walter had seen her, the other lord would have killed her instantly. Yet, despite his own hatred and thirst, he could not. Joachim simply floated there, looking at her, absorbed in the fact that he was dead. Women would fear him. Men would try to kill him. Children would cry at the sight of him…for he was _inhuman_. The word was cruel but accurate. How could he call himself a man when vampires drank the blood of their victims? He no longer walked like a man, for he floated instead. His soul was a ghost trapped forever upon the earth…

"There it is! Now we have him!"

Joachim's eyes darted at the numerous houses on either side of the street, where groups of men emerged clutching weapons in their hands. Their faces were darkened in rage while they readied their weapons and surrounded him. The men carried whatever weapons they could find: scabbards, halberds, pitchforks, crossbows, clubs, and war hammers were a few he recognized immediately. Joachim stared at them sinisterly, knowing their rage and fear made them blind to the fact they were doomed. One man stepped forward carrying a loaded crossbow in his hands. Joachim's eyes widened and he whirled to find every exit blocked. Although his five symbiotic swords protected him, he realized that he was vastly outnumbered. Once his swords left his body to kill, he would remain vulnerable to their attacks. Not even five swords would be able to bring down enough humans for him to escape.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Joachim asked. His voice resounded sharply though the darkness. "I am not a monster! You do not understand, I never wanted to-"

A broken cry escaped through his lips when an arrow punctured through his left shoulder. His body crumpled forward as agony ripped through him like fire. "You will die tonight, vampire!" the man holding the crossbow shouted at him while reloading it. Other men slowly began to step forward and tighten the circle around him. There were at least twenty of them waiting to attack. "_Humans_." Joachim snarled, while eyeing the arrow projecting from his shoulder hatefully. With a fearful roar, he grabbed the arrow's feathered end and ripped it out of his flesh. Blood filled the open wound and seeped down his chest in rivers. He gasped from the pain, realizing that despite his powers, he was still vulnerable to their attacks.

"Let us all take pride in killing this unholy fiend. Each of us can take a turn stabbing his blackened heart!"

Joachim whirled to see who was speaking but the men surrounding him became a blur in his mind. His eyes widened into glassy pools when they scanned over the enraged scowls directed at him, willing to slay him without a second thought. It was the same hatred he felt inside his soul when he killed their kind.

"Maybe we should keep him alive long enough to tie him up and let him see God's light ascend over the Earth! His flesh will burn and sear like wood in fire, and it would be a far worse suffering for this godless demon!"

"No!" another commented. "He is too dangerous to keep alive till dawn! Let us slay him now instead of taking such a risk…"

Joachim continued to stare while he pressed one of his hands over the wound to stop the bleeding. When the man carrying the crossbow took a closer step toward him, he gnashed his teeth and snarled till the man backed away again. The men raised their weapons, preparing to strike him down. However, Joachim's gaze diverted upward when a dark form shadowed the moonlight. A gasp escaped his lips when he noticed the threatening silhouette of Walter standing upon the rooftop of a house. Locks of red hair swept around the other lord's pallid cheeks as the night wind danced around him. The vampire's cape billowed out behind him as his throat released an enraged, guttural snarl like a wild beast. Walter bared his fangs in challenge, allowing the razor-sharp incisors to flash like knives in the moon's pale light.

Within seconds, his bat-like form descended toward the group of men with lightning speed. Joachim could only watch as men were thrown backward and smashed against the road. Walter's armored form glided toward them, his steps so smooth and soft that they could not hear the demon approaching to claim their lives. The red-haired lord's gauntlets shredded their throats when he picked them up, one by one, biting those who appealed to him and immediately killing those who did not. Every so often, he would bury his fangs in the neck of a man. Instead of draining him dry, his fangs ripped out pieces of flesh whilst blood poured down the front of his armor in rivers. It was quite possibly the most brutal act of violence Joachim had ever witnessed. He nearly backed away in revulsion, his pale eyes widening as Walter's rage escaladed. The demon's eyes glowed a bright shade of red whilst droplets of blood sprinkled across his once pure, ashen visage.

The vampire lord knocked a man to the ground and crushed his hand, shattering the bones within it as easily as glass. Moans and gasps of agony broke the once tranquil silence of the night. Bodies littered the road in Walter's wake as he approached the white-haired youth, his dark eyes focused upon the wound in Joachim's shoulder. With an irritated huff, he raised his arm into the air as his cape billowed behind him like the wings of a dark angel. The motion created bursts of whitish blue light across the road. Most of the bodies were disintegrated by it instantly. Those that were not, lay where they had fallen, their eyes empty, glassy, and forever stilled by death. The vampire's power was truly something to be reckoned with. _If Walter is that powerful, I stand no chance against him. If only I knew the source…_Joachim stared at his lord wordlessly, whilst Walter approached with cat-like steps.

A scowl pressed across Walter's smooth lips. "Pathetic wretches!" The red-haired lord hissed under his breath. "They know nothing about our kind. If they were not so easy to kill, I might have admired their audacity."

"You…saved me…" Joachim looked up, his pale eyes gleaming in the moonlight whilst Walter towered over him, his gleaming red armor spattered with blood. The terrifying, beautiful creature before him made his entire body fall still. Waves of lush, red hair cascaded against his lord's contoured cheeks, matching the blood covering his body. Despite the terrifying image he conjured within Joachim's mind, his heart swelled. The youth was astonished by the other lord's swiftness and backed into a nearby alleyway. He pressed himself against the side wall of a house, turning his head away from his master's dark, glittering eyes, whilst the breath in his lungs hitched. He could feel Walter drawing nearer to him. Without realizing it, his voice broke through their silence. "You were so…elegant, under the light of the moon, before you killed them. I am nothing compared to you…"

Why did he covet Walter so fiercely? He feared what it meant, for it was unlike him to love another man. The idea in itself was damning, even though the fickleness of human 'morality' no longer controlled him. Yet, it felt so right that a faint blush tickled his pallid cheeks. He kept his eyes averted from his lord, for he was unable to gaze upon Walter's smiling expression. A softness appeared within Walter's eyes as he leaned forward, pressing himself against the trembling young man before his cold, smooth lips covered Joachim's in a tender, gentle kiss. It was difficult to believe that his lord, whom he saw slaughtering people mere moments ago, could display such strong affection for _him_. He felt his lord's passion and love in the kiss they shared, together, under the pale light of the moon. Walter's strong, muscled arms wrapped around him and held him, comforting him in his moment of uncertainty and loneliness.

Joachim ran his fingers through the other lord's lustrous red hair, whilst tasting the blood upon Walter's lips. Human blood. Its sweet, warm tang filled him with pleasure and contentment. Barely conscious of his own actions, his left hand trailed down the front of his lord's chest armor. Walter merely kept his lips pressed against him, unwilling to relent as the young man's curiosity and yearning escalated. Joachim's hand slinked further down until he paused between his master's legs. Walter's hardening organ pressed against the velvety black fabric. Wanting him. Needing him. The youth broke their kiss before long and pull his lord against him, his lips slinking down Walter's sloping neck. The urge to bite it intruded upon his thoughts. Yet, his longing for the other lord compelled him to ignore the bestial temptation. Nothing would stop him until Walter was his. He breathed in his master's scent, whilst feeling Walter's breath grow heavy under the ferventness of his lips. The other lord shuddered as Joachim's delicate, white fingers rubbed the swollen organ. A powerful feeling of desire overcame him when he realized how vulnerable his lord was at that moment. Joachim knew the other lord was drawing him deeper into the blackness from which there was no return. Yet, in their moment together, he did not care or know himself. All he knew was Walter's embrace, his lips, his heat, and the smell of blood caked upon his armored frame. The pale youth rocked against him, daring Walter to take him amidst the carnage and death surrounding them both.

The youth's cheeks flushed a vibrant shade of red as he felt his lord's hand gently caressing his aching organ. A soft, barely audible moan parted through his ashen lips as Walter removed his gauntlet and dropped it on the ground next to him. Within a moment, he felt his lord's smooth, icy hand slide inside his britches. The dull, throbbing need he felt became suddenly more powerful and demanding under the cold touch of Walter's hand. Before he could resist, he felt the other lord's hand deliberately wrap around his hardened member. Joachim gasped and pressed himself harder against the wall, his arms clawing at Walter's chest whilst he threw his head back. Strands of silky, white hair fell against his shoulders as he writhed, aroused by the illicitness of his gratification. Relentless, Walter's hand began to pump, unhindered by the young man's cries of pleasure and shame. The other lord's hand worked against him slowly, deliberately, and with such force that Joachim could scarcely collect himself long enough to realize what was happening. He gasped and panted, wanting air but unable to receive it when Walter's lips smothered him in a deep, ravenous kiss. The demon wanted _him_. Nothing else could challenge his right to Walter's heart. He lost himself in the kiss, feeling his lord's tongue intertwine with his own, whilst the red-haired demon's hand worked forcefully against his swollen erection. "W-Walter-" his voice tried to speak the name but it was lost in ecstasy. Raptures of pleasure filled every fiber of his being. His soul, once broken, was pieced back together by his lord's loving caresses.

The deliberateness of his lord's actions repulsed him. Yet, his lips released a loud, aching moan upon feeling his release spill into Walter's hand. The sticky hot, white wetness clung to his skin as he fell back against the wall, gasping for air like a fish out of water. Evidence of his indiscretion covered the inside of his britches. Never before did he truly look at his own seed until he noticed it covered his lord's hand. The youth's pale optics were glazed and wide, focusing upon the white substance and the other lord's pleasure-entrenched face. The smile upon Walter's lips broadened as he raised his hand to lips and licked the fluid clean, in a manner not unlike that of a cat. Sweat trickled down the side of the youth's face as he gasped, torn between relief and fear. "You…used me…!" He tried to sound enraged, but his voice choked the words out pitifully. Without bearing to look at his lord, he buried his face in his hands, and shuddered against the wall like a frightened child.

Unimpressed by his shame, a soft huff escaped Walter's lips as he turned away. "Is that how you see it?" The accusing tone in his voice made Joachim fall still. He noticed his lord's frame tense when he added quietly. "I beg to disagree, Joachim. It seems you misunderstand…"

"Explain yourself, then!" The white-haired youth hissed as he straightened himself against the wall and brushed the wrinkles out of his clothing. Joachim's eyes hardened upon Walter's backside. If his gaze could shoot daggers, he would have shot a thousand at him.

Walter glanced over his shoulder, his red hair spilling against his face whilst his dark eyes narrowed upon the youth. A sharpness filled his voice when he replied shortly. "No."

Without looking at him again, the red-haired lord returned to the streets, his black cape swishing behind him as he went. If there was one word Joachim was not used to hearing, it was the word 'no.' As a lord he was used to obtaining whatever he wanted. The fact that Walter felt no obligation to tell him anything incensed him to no end. His eyes hardened whilst his hands balled into fists, before his voice shouted after the other vampire. "Answer me, coward!" But Walter was not there to hear it – perhaps, thankfully so, for he knew his lord would not have let him get away with it. Something about Walter fascinated and terrified him. Though he saw the wanting look in the vampire's eyes, he knew Walter was merely saving him for another time. They had work to do, and the sun would rise in a few hours. If there was one thing vampires feared, it was sunlight. With a snarl, Joachim composed himself and drifted after the other lord, unwilling to be left behind like a stray animal.

After a moment, he discovered that another human distracted his lord. Walter's powerful hand had grasped a screaming woman by the throat and was holding her up. Upon sighting the pale youth, the demon dragged the woman toward him. The woman's terror was only a prelude to how she would feel when Walter bit her and drained her dry. He avoided imagining it until he noticed the little girl clinging to the skirt of the woman's dress. As the vampire pulled the woman along, the child clinging to her skirt tripped and fell forward.

Walter paused, his dark eyes flitting to the child in growing irritation upon hearing its frightened cries. "Little wretch," he spat, ignoring the mother's attempt to push the child away in spite of his powerful grip upon her throat. "Perhaps a child would be adequate for you, Joachim."

As if the girl was a pest, he kicked her with his boot, his grate frame towering over her trembling form until the white-haired youth held up a hand.

"What do you mean?" Joachim's icy gaze lingered upon the sobbing child.

Walter's lips formed a coy little smile. "Though I enjoy toying with humans, I will not force a child to watch her mother die."

"But you will kill her mother, knowing the child will be orphaned because of _you_?" He retorted, giving the other lord a severe glare.

"Death is indiscriminate." Walter ignored the young man's escalading rage as he kicked the little girl toward him. The child's crying grew louder, the tears spilling down her soft cheeks whilst her mother commanded the girl to run away. Despite the woman's pleas, the child remained where she had fallen like an anxious fawn looking upon the face of a predator.

"Apparently, cruelty is as well…" He sighed, his pale eyes locking upon the screaming child. If there was ever a time when he wanted to chastise the other lord, it was then. However, he held his tongue, for he knew his temper would doom the child instantly. He looked away from the sight as his lips curled into a sneer.

"Drain her dry." The red-haired lord commanded him quickly. "My thirst is still strong. Once you are done with her, we shall depart. Our survival is dependent upon our ability to conceal ourselves. If you see any humans, kill them all."

Without another word, Walter turned and departed down the street. Though he did not see what happened to the child's mother, the sound of the woman's screams was all he needed to know she would never see her daughter again. He waited until the other vampire was out of sight before he picked up the girl and dragged her into an alleyway, out of his lord's vigilant gaze. The powerful urge to consume blood made his eyes lock upon the girl's delicate neck. If he wanted to, he could have granted her a swift death by breaking her neck. He dropped her on the ground near his feet. The girl huddled against the wall. Tears streamed down her face as she continued to wail, the sound of her fear and pain filling the darkness. The pale young man loomed over her, his glowing aura radiating through the shadows whilst his eyes focused on her. He reached out to pick her up by the front of her dress, eager to end her suffering. Despite the urge to kill, however, his hand cupped her cheek and titled her tiny, delicate face upward so their eyes met. The girl could not have been more than five years old. Bright, azure blue eyes met his whilst he gently wiped away the tears staining her cheeks. "_I want my mother!_ Where is she?" The girl's voice was soft, though the pleading sound within it made a shudder tingle down his spine. His lips parted, revealing the points of his fangs, until he forced them closed.

The urge, the terrible thirst pounding through him, commanded him to bite her neck. He could see the network of blood vessels beneath her soft, white skin and hear the rapid pounding of her heart within her ribcage. His eyes focused upon the little girl's thick, black hair that fell in neat layers down her back. Then, without being fully conscious of it, his gaze returned to the sight of her lovely blue eyes and fair skin. His lips trembled whilst his hand clutched his chest, unable to move as the tears welling in his eyes began to fall. Despite wiping them away, more fell to replace them, staining his lifeless flesh with wet symbols of pain and grief. Amidst his racing thoughts, his gaze remained locked upon the crying little girl, the sounds driving him to the brink of madness. Though the moon's light revealed his ungodliness, it also exposed his paling face. Bitterness consumed his voice when he attempted to form coherent words. "Get away from me, now!"

Like a lost fawn, the child remained in her huddle position near the wall. The sound of his voice made her cry harder. "Mother! _I want my mother_…!"

At that moment, a powerful feeling inside his soul made him remember who he had been before bloodlust and hatred consumed him. Long ago, he was a man…a lord…a lover…and a father. The last designation made his entire form tremble. He pressed his accursed hands upon his face, hiding it from the child. Memories he once suppressed flooded into his mind when his gaze returned to the little girl. He stared at her thick, black hair, sapphire eyes, and delicate face. _If my daughter had lived… she would have inherited my eyes. So when I gazed upon her…I would always see a part of myself gazing back…_ The past had returned to haunt him, refusing to allow the darkness to destroy him. Though he wished it would, for it was far easier to accept it than to remember humanity still existed within him. It would not be long before he succumbed to the curse. Like an angel who fell from the heavens, so too would his soul fall into the darkness.

He would have laid his life down for the crying little girl, who reminded him of a part of himself that had all too briefly existed on earth. He lowered his head and clasped his hands in front of them as though in prayer whilst he whispered. "Forgive me…." He picked the little girl up in his arms and held her close to his silent heart, rocking her gently until the sounds of her cries calmed. Though she shivered from his touch and flinched at the sight of his unnaturally pale skin and eyes, she did not stir as he whispered under his breath. "I promise you, I shall not harm you. Listen to me." The child whimpered when he lifted her up and carried her down the darkened alleyway. As he floated along, he looked over his shoulder, keeping a close watch for any sign of Walter. Faint screams echoing in the distance indicated that his lord was still preoccupied. Upon arriving near wooden wine casks stacked at the alleyway's dead end, his mind focused upon one of them and lifted the lid into the air. "I know you fear me," he continued, keeping his voice soft and quiet to avoid attracting attention. There was no telling where Walter could be. If the vampire lord wished it, he could translocate in front of him at any moment. "But you must remain quiet. Do not come out until the sun is highest in the sky. Do you understand?"

"Yes." The little girl nodded. He lifted her into the cask but paused when her tiny hand clasped onto his. Their eyes met for the last time. Her soft, azure eyes locked against his icy gaze, briefly melting the coldness within them. "What are you?" She asked in a trembling voice.

He broke their gaze and lowered his head, hiding his unholy flesh behind the curtains of his glossy white hair. A gentle sigh parted through his lips when he answered darkly. "I don't know." Without looking at her again, he motioned for her to sit down. He could feel the little girl's eyes tracing him as he lifted the lid and began to slide it on top of the cask. Her ebony colored hair splayed across her shoulders as she huddled inside the barrel, looking up at him until the lid blocked their view of each other. He pressed one of his hands against his cheek, mortified by the fact he did not know who or what he was. Indeed, though inhuman, he still possessed a human heart. A vampire with a conscience – two concepts not meant to co-exist. Nevertheless, a voice inside him calmed the thoughts raging inside him like an angry sea. _I am a man. _As long as he could convince himself of it, there was still hope for redemption. He pictured the tiny little face of his infant daughter, feeling his soul ache and his eyes fill with tears. It would be impossible for him to experience the joy of being a father. Walter had ensured that. Indeed, he was beginning to understand the magnitude of eternity. What would his life have been like if his daughter had lived? The young man's lips pursed at the thought whilst he turned and hurried back into the moonlit streets. A sad, pale light surrounded him as his eyes lifted to gaze at the starry night sky. _Perhaps, your soul has become one of those stars looking down upon me…_

The young man moved through the village's empty cobblestone roads. Every so often, he would come across the remains of humans strewn across the road. Some humans were barely recognizable amidst the blood pooling around their bodies. He caught the intoxicating scent of it in the air, its foul odor attracting him to the dead left in his lord's wake. It was too late for him to help them, now. He noticed Walter had taken his time. Every so often, he would look upon the mangled corpse of a man, whose flesh had been torn completely from its skull as though the vampire was skinning an animal. Eventually, he averted his eyes from the dead, knowing the scent of their blood would feed his hunger. Despite the blood-covered roads, he was unwilling to feast upon his lord's kill. He remembered the dark-winged birds, whose song was foul, and whose beaks pecked at animal and human remains. They were indiscriminate scavengers that fed off death. Every time he saw one when he was a boy, he would shudder to himself when their tiny black eyes blinked at him in the dying sunlight. It did not matter what season it was. Sometimes, in the dead of winter, bodies were left outside for burial. Whenever the black birds flocked, there was hardly anything left of the bodies to bury. It would not be long before the birds came to feast upon the death and ruin.

It did not take him long to find his lord. The red-haired demon was feasting upon the body of a young man. The vampire's iron-clad gauntlets clamped firmly around the lower jaw whilst his fangs embedded themselves into the man's jugular. Every so often, he watched the man's fingers and feet twitch as he was drained of his blood. Once the man was nothing more than a shriveled corpse, like a fruit squeezed of its juices, the red-haired lord dropped the body on the ground. A smile appeared across his smooth, bloodstained lips whilst his ashen flesh gleamed like snow in the moonlight. The vampire's chest armor and gauntlets were covered in blood. The red liquid glistened faintly upon the shimmering steel that clad his tall, muscular form. As though he were a prince of hell, a deep, resonating chuckle escaped his throat whilst the pale young man watched, frozen by his lord's amusement. "Ah, what a splendid evening." He began, ignoring the youth's gasp. "It seems you have not accustomed yourself to killing, Joachim. Do not worry. In time, it will become natural and your abilities will improve. I hope the child's blood was satisfactory. The younger they are, the sweeter it tastes."

"Tis' true," He replied coldly, whilst his delicate lips formed a tiny smirk. With a cool flick of the hand, he licked his lips as his pale eyes glittered in the darkness. "Although the child's blood was sweet, I detested her crying and screaming. It interrupted my concentration." He folded his arms across his chest, giving the other vampire a shrewd look. Underneath the composed exterior, however, he prayed Walter would not see through his falsehood. The child's fate – and quite possibly his own – depended upon it. With an eloquent bow, he added smoothly. "It seems I need more practice. The success of this night merely proves that your skills are superior to my own. Nevertheless, we will see how long that lasts…"

"Indeed." Walter replied. The red-haired lord's dark eyes lingered on him for a moment. The blood covering his armor merely accentuated his crimson hair which tumbled across his powerfully built shoulders. It was obvious that both his build and strength contributed to his ability to kill. "Someday we will see…" His voice trailed away whilst he picked up the body of yet another man, unwilling to pursue the conversation further. Though his lord smiled, he sensed Walter was somewhat uncomfortable. Centuries of life gave the red-haired lord time to conceal his thoughts. The vampire's hand trailed to the glittering black stone secured around his neck by its ornate gold chain. Something about the stone caught Joachim's attention. As suddenly as he thought about it, he remembered the cryptic message written in the book he found in the laboratory: _Aeternam vitam_, _Lapillus Hebenus_. Eternal life, ebony stone… Although Walter chastised him for his sceptical nature, his attention to detail was more attuned than the other lord realized. If he believed in vampires, he would have arrested Walter and things might have turned out differently – or not, he would never know. However, Walter was clever enough to conceal as much from him as possible. The less he knew, the easier it was for the other lord to control him. As if he were a wild stallion, Walter was trying to break his spirit. The blood of the innocent – the little girl – might have sealed him in the darkness forever if he drank it. Yet, his eyes flickered with delight. If his lord had stayed to watch him kill her, things could have gone the other way.

_If Walter can keep secrets, so can I._

Walter moved toward the body of a young man who, to his surprise, was still alive despite being bludgeoned by the vampire's armoured boot. With barely a glance, the red-haired lord picked the man off the ground by the throat, ignoring the agonized gasps when his vigilant eyes locked upon Joachim. Every so often, he would glance eastward and search the horizon, for the night was starting to give way to dawn's first light. "We do not have much time." Walter's deep voice echoed through the empty streets. "Bat form does not give us enough strength to carry a human so we must return on foot. Once we arrive at Eternal Night, give this human to Lord Cronqvist. He will require blood after he awakens."

"As you wish." He replied, feigning indifference as Walter turned and began the trek back to the forest. The entire village was deserted – it's lonely cobblestone roads stained by blood and human remains. When they passed the alley where he left the little girl, it took all of his will power to stop himself from glancing curiously down it. If Walter saw him, he would undoubtedly want to investigate. He watched Walter lift the body of the man into the air without touching it, the power of his will alone enough to make the body float beside him as he walked. The sight of Walter walking beside a corpse made the white-haired youth grimace.

Before he could say anything, Walter suddenly paused and glanced over his shoulder, his dark eyes locking upon him with renewed interest. "I can smell blood on you, Joachim. Your blood. Are you badly wounded?"

"No, I am fine." He refused to look at the subtle hint of concern reflecting within the other lord's eyes. In an effort to dismiss him, he attempted to wipe the blood away from the wound in his shoulder. Though it was somewhat painful, he was fortunate the arrow missed his heart. Gratitude briefly overcame the steely glint in his eyes as he bowed his head. "I can take care of myself, Walter. You need not worry…"

The red-haired demon huffed. "Vampires are not supposed to be killed by their prey." From the corner of his eye he saw a slight smile press across the other lord's lips. "Your pride is, admittedly, one of your most endearing qualities…" A chuckle parted from Walter's lips, and he finally looked at his face again to see the smile abruptly fade. "I almost lost you tonight. I will ensure in the future that never happens again."

Joachim knew Walter meant every word. Together, they silently disappeared into the darkness from whence they came.


	20. Chapter 20: Invitation

**Author's Note: **This chapter is actually a precursor/prelude to events in Chapter 21 (a major chapter by the way!). Even though this chapter is short, I hope you will read and review it, especially if you like Mathias :) Mathias never seems to get a lot of attention from fanfic authors, even though his character has a lot of potential. I deliberately changed the LoI idea of the Crimson Stone making Mathias lose his humanity. I just didn't think it made sense for a stone to turn someone into a vampire. Since Mathias' meeting/arrangement with Walter was never explained in detail, I decided that Walter should turn him. I liked the idea of Mathias choosing to offer up his humanity to Walter, in exchange for a powerful adversary (Leon).

Also, since LoI never explained how Mathias obtained the Crimson Stone, it might have been passed down in his family (like the alchemy book). You can safely assume that he already has the Crimson Stone, hence the abnormally fast development of his vampiric powers. In my story, the only way he could command the Stone's power was by becoming a vampire. I hope all of that makes sense. :)

Mathias is a great manipulator, which you will hopefully see in this chapter.

*Sub note: FYI, The telescope room actually exists in the LoI game on the 3f of the Anti-Soul Mysteries Lab, in case you are wondering.*

Special Thanks

As always, thank you for reading this story and following it. If you like it (or don't?), I would really like to hear from you! :) I think some authors discontinue their stories because they aren't motivated and think people are not reading it. Reviews help motivate me to update often since I love hearing what people think.

Also, if you like this fic, don't forget to favorite it ;)

**Chapter XX**

The castle was quiet. Walter led the way over the drawbridge and into the entranceway. "Here at last!" The vampire declared, his voice echoing through the room. "Bring that human to our guest. He will have awakened and require blood."

"As you wish." For once, he did not object to his lord's instructions.

Walter looked at him for a long moment, his dark eyes glinting in the torchlight. The castle's shadowy atmosphere made his skin seem even paler, whilst the seriousness upon his eloquent visage gave way to a warm, congenial smile. Despite his beauty, Joachim found the expression somewhat unnerving, for it was rare for his lord to be so pleased. "You did well tonight, Joachim." The compliment made the iciness in the young man's eyes waver. Walter ascended the steps to his tower and paused on the middle of the staircase as if he had just considered something rather amusing. His great, armored frame turned round to face the youth again. Without hesitating, he bowed his head, the coils of his thick, blood red hair splaying against the high collar of his armor. "I would be honored if you would join me tonight. Though your tenacity is amusing, I know that is not all you are capable of displaying in my presence, Lord Armster."

The young man's pale eyes locked with his lord's whilst he returned the invitation with a gentle, suspicious smile. He could not deny the fact that Walter was persuasive. However, he remembered that his lord was as cunning as he was gracious – especially when he wanted something. "I am honored to accept," he replied, though he could not resist adding. "However, if your civility is some sort of ploy, Walter, I would be glad to show you my _other_ capabilities."

"I am certain you would be," Walter's eyes flickered. "Though I assure you, it would be unwise. For once, Joachim, I would like to see you in an agreeable mood. If that is not too difficult, our evening shall be pleasant."

"For you, perhaps." Walter's eyes abruptly narrowed and his lower lip curled, fully prepared to challenge the young man's discourtesy. If he did not soften his tone, he was certain his lord would quickly withdraw the amicable offer. Unwilling to go that far, the pale youth released a sigh, for yet again he found himself unable to refuse. Like a moth to a flame, Walter drew him like no other. Against his will, Joachim felt his cheeks grow hot whilst he replied, his voice softening under the passion appearing within his lord's starlit eyes. "If my presence pleases you, so be it."

"I am hopeful that you will, eventually, learn to accept me." The red-haired vampire chuckled, whilst continuing up the steps. His long, black cape fluttered behind him in an almost playful fashion. Joachim could not lift his gaze away from his lord's elegance, for Walter moved with the grace of a king. The demon's beautiful countenance looked over his broad, armored shoulder at Joachim's transfixed expression. His ghostly white lips formed a smirk. "I will wait for you in the throne room." Like a shadow, the red-haired vampire disappeared beyond the tower entrance.

Joachim stared after him for a long time. He sensed that, despite Walter's confidence, his lord longed for his surrender. Everything had to be challenging in order to retain its fascination. He despised the idea of becoming another 'challenge' or 'game' like many humans drawn to Eternal Night. Yet, he suspected Walter thought better of him than that – as long as he was the one in power. The thought made his eyes widen for fear that he would reciprocate. He tried to block it from his mind as he drifted toward the small sanctuary, seeking refuge from the dangerous emotions when he thought of his lord. He floated into the corridor beyond the entranceway and placed his ear against the blue door, listening for the sound of Mathias' anguished screams. When nothing came of it, he waved it open. To his surprise, the knight was nowhere to be found. Joachim's lips curled as he returned to the corridor. It irked him that he would have to explore the castle in search of him. _This is not my responsibility! Walter should take care of his own guests. _He folded his arms across his chest whilst his hand brushed away strands of his pearly white hair. The body of the human man floated beside him under his telekinetic control. Although his abilities were improving, it took a great deal of energy to support the body. A growing suspicion prompted him to try the laboratory, first. A newly turned vampire would have no trouble wandering through its corridors since zombies were easy to kill. Without delay, he began the long trek, commanding the body to float behind him. The young man ignored the trail of blood speckling the floor from his swords as he went.

Death and violence were slowly becoming a normal facet of Eternal Night. Thus far, he had managed to avoid drinking the blood of his victims. However, it was not without a price…for he was growing weak again. The hunger was beginning to rage against him like a caged beast. It would be almost impossible for him to seek out his lord's blood, knowing that Walter would discover him instantly. _Am I turning into a monster? I could never be like Walter… _Yet, he remembered it was in his nature to kill. A part of him admired the calculating look in Walter's eyes whilst he snuffed out their lives – thoughtlessly, mercilessly, and without regret. _How I envy you, Walter! Tis' so very effortless for you…nothing is beyond your reach. It seems, not even me… _A small smirk crossed his fine, pale lips whilst his eyes flickered. _You cannot keep everything from me. That stone is important to you. If only I knew why…_

* * *

"I see you have changed…" Joachim commented when Mathias looked up and whirled to face him.

Merely hours after being tainted, the former human was able to float in the air. The knight's black robes billowed around his form, whilst his chestnut colored eyes fell upon the young man curiously. "Welcome, Lord Armster. The transformation was difficult, though it matters little, now. The powers I have acquired as a vampire are magnificent. I would not exchange this gift for a thousand lifetimes as a mortal."

"What if your wife was alive? What would she say if she saw you…like this?" Joachim looked up at him boldly, ignoring the confidence reflecting within the knight's eyes. A lifetime of human memories was suddenly washed away by the vampire's bite. Joachim scowled at Mathias' unmoved expression. Though the knight tried to conceal it, he sensed a wavering within him.

Mathias' eyes diverted to the table scattered with books, feigning disinterest in the young man's inquiry when he answered softly. "Elisabetha…is the reason why I rejected God, for her soul is departed, and she shall not see me. I pray she does not."

Despite the tactician's subdued manner, Joachim despised looking at him. To him, the man's blackened soul may well have been visible, for he saw nothing except contempt within his eyes. A burning hatred for the injustice of life, and more so, for the silence of a God who perpetuated suffering. Despite the Church's philosophy, both he and Mathias found no comfort in the concept of heaven. How could he believe in a place that rich, greedy, soulless men sought to enter with gold? A quiet sigh parted through his lips whilst he silently looked on at the knight.

A faint smile spread across the tactician's lips as he floated toward the ground, his long, dark brown hair flowing gracefully around his shoulders and back. With barely a sound, his boots touched the floor, and he gave the youth a scrutinizing look. "I know you suffer as much as I."

Joachim recoiled from the man, his lips curling into a sneer. "That is none of your concern. I came here to bring you a gift from Walter. Take it. I'm tired of dragging this thing with me everywhere." He ushered to the body of the man floating next to him and let it drop onto the floor with a loud, resounding thump. The man had been dead for hours and the corpse was stiff. He could not imagine drinking its blood, for it would have since gone congealed and gone cold. The young vampire's hard, pale eyes glanced from the corpse to Mathias' expression.

To his surprise, the tactician looked at the body with disinterest. As if he had drunk blood a hundred times before, Mathias walked toward the corpse and kneeled next to it, curtaining his smooth visage behind a veil of dark brown hair. "It is so simple to take life." He murmured. "Humanity is so very fragile. Unless we grant ourselves the power to defy it, our lives are at the mercy of God's will." Mathias shook his head and allowed tendrils of his long dark russet colored hair to fall around his shoulders in silken waves. "It is too late for reconciliation. This is what I have longed for. It eludes me why you could not wish for eternity. There is no need for you to remain in servitude."

"I am not a servant!" Joachim scoffed, his lower lip curling at the thought. No one would call him Walter's slave and get away with it. Nearly boiling in rage, his hand clenched into it a fist whilst his blackened fingernails dug into his palm. He pointed at the knight with his other hand, his index finger directed at the knight's solemn visage. "I serve no one except myself. Once I discover the secret to Walter's power, I will free myself from this accursed life."

"Power comes in infinite forms. Walter has the build of one who prefers to use physical force, however, I sense that you have a greater _mind_ than he." Mathias' words silenced him for a moment, and Joachim observed him as much as he found he was being observed in return. "Those five symbiotic swords surrounding you…" The tactician continued whilst his eyes drifted to the five, bloody swords aligned behind the youth's back. "You have great power. Yet, great power is meaningless unless one understands it. My company has defeated vast armies simply because I discovered when and where t'was necessary to attack. If you learn to understand your opponent, you will be able to defeat them, even if their powers are greater than your own." For a moment, his eyes gazed expressionlessly at the dead figure he held as he lowered his face toward his neck. The tactician's sharp, gleaming fangs punctured the flesh. Joachim watched the red liquid trickle down the human's neck, but the other vampire took no notice and quietly finished his meal. Without another glance he set the shriveled body of the human aside on the floor and rose to his feet.

"Well?" Joachim inquired, the sharpness in his voice shattering the silence. "Do you feel nothing at all?"

Mathias levitated with his back to him, though he slowly turned and faced him once again with the same solemn expression. "You are wounded. To wander untreated will decrease your body's ability to heal itself quickly." Before he could even pull away, the knight reached out and ran his fingers across the puncture wound in his shoulder.

Joachim shoved him away, glaring at him suspiciously. "Don't touch me! I am fine, it was just an arrow – nothing that an immortal should fear."

"Vampires can heal very rapidly but that does not mean we are invincible."

Joachim paused when Mathis' gaze did not divert from his wounded shoulder. He moved his arm to flex it, but a searing pain shot through so quickly that he covered it with his hand, hissing in pain. The arrow had lodged itself deeper inside his skin than he expected. Blood seeped out of the open wound, staining his robes, whilst he staggered back against the table. Dull, aching pain flooded through him when he attempted to stop the bleeding. In spite of feeling lightheaded, he continued to sneer at the knight, ignoring his concern. _No one will touch me…! Except…Walter… _A gasp fled his lips as he attempted to hide his disgust and he fell back into the chair near the table. His thoughts began to race whilst his pale optics widened. _What is happening to me? _

Mathias shook his head and stepped forward persistently. The calm sound of his voice eased the pale youth somewhat. There was not even a flicker of hesitation upon the knight's face. Although the five swords behind Joachim's back were capable of cutting him into pieces, he did not seem concerned in the least. "Allow me to assist you, Lord Armster. It is the least I can do to repay you." He bowed his head, the long, silky locks of his chestnut hair splaying across his shoulders. The graceful manner in which he carried himself captured the young man's complete attention, for here was not an ounce of disrespect to contravene his offer.

Joachim gave the man a reluctant nod. Without delay, the knight ushered to his armor. Up close Joachim realized just how pale the former man had become. The tactician's skin was so pallid it gave the illusion of being transparent. "Please, you will have to remove that. I am going to clean your wound. I have spent the majority of my life on the battlefield…and have witnessed many horrors. I assure you, this is nothing by comparison." One by one, the strings came loose, until the tactician gently slid it off his back. Without speaking, the knight touched the wound with the tips of his cold, pale fingers and nodded grimly. "For one to have never experienced the brutality of war is a blessing. War relinquishes innocence, and replaces it with images of death and suffering." A slight twitch fainted across Mathias' smooth lips. With a quiet sigh, he withdrew a vial containing a translucent blue liquid from the pocket of his robe. Joachim eyed it suspiciously, until Mathias added, "Alchemy has given me knowledge of how to heal wounds. I made this potion myself, as a precaution…though, it seems, you require it more than I. Remain still." The tactician's cold, slender hand tipped the vial until its contents drained upon the open wound. Joachim hissed, feeling a dull, numbing pain – though it disappeared quickly. The lifeless, white flesh surrounding the punctured area began to heal at a rapid rate. Broken tissue and blood vessels regenerated. The tactician's cold eyes stared at the disappearing wound meticulously. "A student of mine learned how to concoct this healing potion as well. It seems, he lives here now, trying to help those who play Walter's game. Your lord has made many enemies."

"Your student was Rinaldo?" The young man drew his head back, blinking in amazement. _I underestimated that old man…_

"Evidently, you have met him already. T'was years ago, that I passed a few secrets unto him. I know his heart is full of hatred for your lord. Men would not fall, if only God chose to catch them…" He placed a hand over his chest and revealed an ornate silver cross attached by a beaded necklace. He wrapped his hand around the object as it burned against his ashen flesh. A dull, hissing noise filled the air when smoke began to drift from the smoldering cross. Fierce, unyielding hatred ignited within the knight's eyes as his smooth lips curled into sneer. "I curse God for what he did! I fought and killed in his name. Only to return home and find my wife…" The silver cross formed into a puddle of shimmering gray dripping from of his enclosed fist. With a huff, the knight flicked the remnants of the cross onto the floor.

"Why did you help me?" The white-haired vampire attempted to change the subject.

Mathias' expression calmed whilst his eyes narrowed derisively. "Walter is dependent upon the Ebony Stone. Without its aid, he would have little influence over the night."

"You know about the Ebony Stone?" Joachim floated out of his chair. Finally, the knight had caught his immediate and undivided attention. His pale blue eyes glinted hungrily, seeking out the thoughts concealed behind the other vampire's dead gaze.

"I know a great deal." Mathias ushered to the eyepiece of the telescope high above the ground. "Though, power exists beyond alchemy. Look upon the stars, for example." He extended his pasty white hand to the twinkling lights in the blackness beyond the hole in the wall. "Consistency is found within the stars. For centuries, humans understood the universe by looking at the night sky. Constellations allow us to chart the heavens and know its secrets. The night is beautiful and powerful. To spend eternity looking upon the stars is greater than heaven itself."

He watched the tactician levitate into the air and float toward the telescope's eyepiece. Though the instrument appeared to be centuries old, the knight peered through it and ushered for the white-haired youth to join him. A tiny smirk crept across Joachim's lips whilst he floated toward the massive object. Mathias moved aside, allowing him to glimpse through the eyepiece at the stars. The moment he looked through it, thousands of stars filled the black abyss. Never before had he seen so many stars, not even on the clearest nights in Creightel. The telescope's magnification made it feel as if he were viewing the sky from the heavens. He wished he could lose himself among the faint, twinkling lights. As a vampire, there was more to admire about the darkness than the light. He withdrew his gaze upon hearing the knight continue quietly. "If mastered to its full potential, the power you can wield with your mind will be unstoppable."

Joachim looked from Mathias to his swords. One after another, the blades orbited around his body in an array of glowing steel. Though he was not fully conscious of his thoughts, the swords broke away and slashed rapidly at the air, their blades angling sideways. The weapons' destructive potential was obvious. The swords were custom made, for their hilts were designed to look like bats. Only a skilled blacksmith or artisan could fashion such a unique design, though he could not tell their age or maker, despite his familiarity with the craft. In spite of the swords' mysterious origins, they were far more powerful and resilient than human-made weapons. A faint smile crept across his lips whilst he wondered how many humans had lost their lives to the five, cruel blades encircling around him. The swords were devoted to his every whim. They protected him and obeyed him, for his body was vulnerable, even after being turned. His gaze lingered upon his exquisite steel swords, admiring the blood caked upon them, and longing to taste it. With a low chuckle, he sent them away again, watching their glowing forms slash rapidly at the air, one after another, unrelenting in their desire to please him. Yet, he knew his power was still unfocused. He simply commanded them to stab or slash, without honing his mental capacities enough to see what they were truly capable of doing. Thus, he was unsurprised by the fact that the tactician next to him noticed his lacking precision.

"A very fine attempt." Mathias remarked, his dark eyes observing the blades when they returned to protect their master. "Now, focus your energy – all of it. Use your hatred to make your swords more powerful."

Joachim concentrated his thoughts upon his swords. He had already expended a great deal of energy during his outing to Dalwood. "I…don't think I can…"

Mathias' cold encouragement silenced his complaint. "Doubt leads to defeat. Choose a target and attack."

Joachim began to delve into his thoughts in order to break the barrier blocking his mind. Minutes passed until his eyes glowed crimson. He divided his power within himself and allowed it to build to a colossal state. A strange energy emanated around his body as his mind formed his thoughts and energy into visible, bluish colored orbs. "Astounding…" Mathias whispered, evidently, unable to withhold his awe of the young man's power. It took most of his strength to form his energy into spherical shapes. Yet, doing so seemed to enhance his psychic abilities. As he struggled to command the orbs to sustain the barrier around him, the greenish glow around his five whirling swords intensified. However, the force shielding him was somewhat weak. It was not enough to command his swords – he wished to merge his very existence with them. It was a risky maneuver. The frail, blue orbs of light floated around the room, unprotected. If all of them were somehow broken, his telekinetic focus would shatter, leaving him weak and defenseless against his opponents. Such a strategy would require a great deal of consideration and planning. The mental strength it required alone was exhausting. His frame swayed forward in the air whilst a headache building inside his mind threatened to let him fall. He could no longer sustain his ability to float as his mind began to lose focus.

Mathias caught him with the speed of a hawk, refusing to allow the young man to fall. The other vampire's grasp was as cold as ice – lacking any of the human warmth it may have had before he was turned. "You have done well." He lowered the weakened young man toward the ground. "With practice, you shall improve. Eternity has the advantage of time. You best use it well."

"Tell me about the Ebony Stone." Joachim attempted to clear his head of the throbbing pain. "Since we have time, as you said."

A coy grin creased the corners of the tactician's mouth as though he had anticipated the question. With a slow, easeful motion, his hand reached into the pocket of his robes and withdrew a small book bound in a black leather cover. The book's pages were yellowed with age and its cover was stained and ripped. Mathias clutched the book in his hand whilst giving him a discerning look. "My family has practiced alchemy for generations." He began, his robes sweeping with his steps as he paced across the room, his long brown hair swaying with his graceful movements. A growing darkness appeared within his eyes. "The Ebony Stone is said to grant the one who possesses it unimaginable power. For centuries, its existence remained unknown…until now."

Joachim did his best to avoid scowling at the other vampire's explanation. Since he could remember, alchemy was a forbidden art. The man must have been clever to conceal his family's secrets from the church. "Is the Stone in Walter's possession?"

The answer to his question became suddenly obvious when the tactician's eyes glinted. With a curt nod, he opened the book and ran his index finger across its tattered pages. "It is my belief that it is. The stone he wears is proof of his authority over the Night. As long as it is within his grasp, no one – human or vampire – will be able to defeat him. Nevertheless, power is a fickle thing…"

"How did he obtain it?"

"That I know not." The tactician shrugged, for his interest in Walter did not seem to match the red-haired lord's servant. He walked toward the room's elaborate hearth and stood before it. The man did not even move when he created a small spark within it, which burst into an array of dazzling flames. The fire's dim, orangey light shadowed half of his face in darkness, whilst the pallid half Joachim could see glowed eerily. A flicker of malice refracted within the tactician's eyes as he stood, looking into the flames, his voice falling quiet as he fed the youth's growing curiosity like a master tossing a piece of meat to a hungry dog. Joachim could feel the tactician's powers make the stonework tremble. "If you desire to obtain the Ebony Stone, you must understand that two others like it exist as well. All three are treasured by vampires…especially the Crimson Stone."

"Crimson Stone?" Joachim repeated the words to himself. His eyes narrowed, for he had no knowledge of alchemy or the dark arts. Such things would have immediately sent him to pyre. It was problematic enough to cope with his albinism, let alone concern himself with dangerous hobbies when he was human. "I have never heard of it. The Church forbade such talk. To them, no power exists beyond God."

An amused chuckle escaped the tactician's throat as he shook his head. "There are powers even greater than God. Those who wish to control death covet the Crimson Stone. Walter, though powerful, is incomplete without it."

Incomplete. The word echoed through his mind as he watched the tactician turn away from the flames to face him. The man's powers were developing at a rapid rate – far more rapid than his own. Though he did not know for certain, he suspected that it was unnatural for newly turned vampires to become so powerful, so quickly. Mathias' powers were uncontrollable – he could sense it as he stood there, watching him, his pale eyes flitting between his whirling swords and the creature standing by the hearth. A growing dread filled him the longer he looked at the knight's calm, serious expression. Not a flicker of doubt clouded Mathias' intentions – whatever they were. Though Joachim refrained from addressing the knight's unusual strength, he did not hesitate to observe silkily. "So, it seems the Ebony Stone has caught your attention." He smiled to himself when he noticed Mathias' lips twitch under his penetrating gaze. "You need not worry, Lord Cronqvist. If power can be gained, it can also be lost. Once the Ebony Stone is under my control, I will have no use for Walter."

"A soul – even a vampire's – has its uses. Do not rush to conclusions, Lord Armster." The knight ignored the youth's sharpening tone. "The Ebony Stone is only as powerful as its master."

"Can its power be transferred to another?" The details of the stone did not interest him as much as how to acquire its power. Walter coveted the stone. Since the night he met the vampire, he had never seen the red-haired lord without it. Nevertheless, the tactician's knowledge of alchemy impressed him to the point that the question was inevitable. Although he did not understand Mathias' talk about souls, the confirmation piqued his interest. Somehow, the former human knew too much about the stones...

With a graceful bow, the knight outstretched his hand, offering him the book. His voice, though soft, seemed to have a twinge of malice within it. Yet, his congenial expression gave no hint to the thoughts coursing within his mind. "Whoever possesses the Stone, possesses its power." A returned, almost mocking, smile formed upon his lips. "Take this. It is a copy of the original belonging to my family. _Show it to no one_."

"Why are you giving it to me?" Joachim inquired, though he took the book, even when the knight's mysterious smile broadened.

"Why not?" The tactician's chestnut eyes glinted in the firelight. Although it was an eerie sight, his gracefulness contrasted with it. "Knowledge is empowering. Everything you need to know about the Ebony Stone is contained in that book. Though…tis' meaningless to learn how to use the Stone when it is not yours. I doubt you shall ever get that far, for you are merely Lord Bernhard's _servant_."

The cruelty of his words stung the young man like a thousand bees. Before Joachim could contain himself, his eyes narrowed and he sent one of his swords away at the knight. Fortunately, his mind called the blade back as its razor-sharp edge came within inches of Mathias' vulnerable jugular. The tactician did not even move to avoid it. _Does he truly fear nothing? _Joachim gasped, whilst his surprise faded into anger. "I belong to no one!" he hissed, ignoring the malicious glint appearing within Mathias' eyes. "Think what you want, Lord Cronqvist. Even if I must kill Walter, that Stone will be _mine_!"

"I admire your determination." The knight replied, his voice returning to its formerly polite tone. "However, I doubt Lord Bernhard will admire it as much as I, if you succeed. Unbelievable power could be yours. This castle, this forest, and the Ebony Stone – all yours, if you are daring enough to take it."

The smirk returned across Joachim's lips. He licked them, his pale eyes glinting whilst he tossed his head, allowing his pearly white locks to cascade against his shoulders and cheeks. With a loud huff, he folded his arms across his chest and straightened his posture. "Of course I am. I will take _all_ of it. It is about time I repaid my debt to Walter. I look forward to it…"

Without looking at him again, the knight bowed and returned his attention to the fireplace. Mathias' long, flowing robes and hair emanated a graceful but ghostly image. A shell of a man, whose heart was blackened by hatred and despair. Like Judas, the knight was prepared to betray everything he had ever known. Rather than receive a reward of silver, his would be red. Blood would stain him forever and engrain itself within his soul until nothing of his former self remained. Perhaps, the woman he loved enough to damn himself would be lost in the darkness consuming his heart.

Joachim shuddered to himself. Even with his willpower, it took great effort to avoid consuming blood. He touched the graceful curves of his cheek with his hand, feeling his own cold, lifeless flesh against his fingertips. With a heavy sigh, the corners of his lips curved downward. He barely remembered what it felt like when he smiled out of happiness. Secretly, he wondered on his fate, and of his lord's. Centuries of life made Walter enlightened as well as bored. He could see it behind the veil of delight in the vampire's dark, glittering eyes. A deadness, which was incomprehensible at first, yet now seemed noticeable. Killing was an excuse to break the monotony of eternity. It was no wonder why immortal gods sought human contact. Life in the heavens was hollow. Mortals, on the other hand, lived as the Gods wished they could. Whereas he had drunk life from the bottle, Walter sipped it from a glass – slowly and deliberately, since it never emptied.

What would become of him, now? Protected forever by the forest of Eternal Night, behind the castle's cold walls, and forever bound to the darkness. He suspected that, one day, the night he treasured would become the black abyss. The stars would no longer glint beautifully, for their dim lights would mock him. The wind, once cool and whispering, would sear his flesh like fire and hiss in his ears. Human society would change but he would not. Nothing in Eternal Night would ever change. Walter might find a different game but would still be consumed by a hopeless desire to free himself from the invisible, powerful grip of eternity. Perhaps, God created the angels in heaven to the break the loneliness, the solitude, and the endlessness of _existing_.

_Walter, you need me to comfort you, so you know you are not alone. I am here, with you, forever. Forever yours…to own, love, and cherish. Only I am worthy of you. Yet, you do not realize…_

…_Angels rebelled, and fell from grace…_

…_gods defied Zeus, and were cast out of Elysium…_

_Only time will tell if you will damn me…or love me enough to save me…_


	21. Chapter 21: Seduction

**Author's Note: **Well, here it is the lemon. I am not even going to pretend I'm good at writing these things. I hope I don't disappoint you, though this lemon does have a purpose and isn't here just because I felt like putting one in. You'll know what I mean if/when you read to the end paragraph. If you aren't a fan of yaoi or simply don't like lemons, read the beginning half and the last paragraph. However, from now on, the story WILL take a darker turn. I am starting to wonder if this is even the same Joachim I wrote about 20 chapters ago... :(

Special thanks go to my beta readers for checking this prior to its public release (Rahar Moonfire and LateNiteSlacker) :D I want to know what the public thinks of this major chapter so feel free to review!

**Special Thanks**

Thank you to everyone who is following this story. I love it when people review (and I will be responding to them shortly). It means a lot and I hope you will continue reading. :D I'm going to try using that individual "review response" option thing to cut down on the page length of my posted chapters (ha!)

Extra special thanks go to the people who took the time to leave me reviews: **Suikorin, LateNiteSlacker, Rahar Moonfire, TheGhostisReal **

thank you :)

**Chapter XXI**

Joachim's ears pricked at the subtle tone of Walter's voice as the vampire ushered to a chair near the head of the long banquet table that had been set up in room. "Welcome, Joachim." He stared at Walter's tall armored form, feeling the cold dark eyes upon him as he stood just beyond the threshold of the door. Walter calmly seated himself in the chair at the head of the table, ushering for Joachim to join him, his dark eyes glinting. "Your food is getting cold. Please, sit down and have a glass of wine."

Joachim reciprocated without complaint. Despite Walter's unpredictability, his lord's calm disposition intrigued him. He floated into the room and seated himself in one of the velvet chairs, his eyes locking with Walter's as the lord politely poured two glasses of wine. Walter placed an elbow on the table and rested his chin in his palm, his ashen skin glistening in the torchlight. "Those swords are unnecessary," he added, fully aware of the youth's distrustful nature. Before he could object, Walter sent his five swords to rest against the furthest wall in the room – deliberately out of reach. "I assure you, I have no intention of harming you. You appear distressed…tell me what troubles you."

"It's none of your business." Joachim folded his arms across his chest as wavelets of his ivory hair rippled around his smooth face. His eyes bore into the red-haired lord's before he looked away, attempting to avoid the creature's penetrating gaze. In spite of his insistence, he could tell that his lie was as transparent as glass.

"I see." Walter replied, though he was undaunted by the young vampire's resistance. "I was hoping we could have an enjoyable evening together. I do not wish to argue with you."

A loud huff was all he gave in reply. It wasn't until he felt the smooth curvatures of Walter's hand touch his chin and tilt his face upward, so that he looked into the other vampire's dark eyes. Despite loathing him, he could not resist his touch. He realized that deep within himself, he _wanted_ Walter to touch him. He hesitated a moment, lost in thought. If his heart still beat, he was certain it would have been pounding against his chest from the intensity in Walter's eyes. Then, before he could stop himself, the hunger within him escaped through his lips in barely a whisper. "I…need you, Walter…"

Why he said it he did not know, except that he remembered the fateful night of their first kiss. Since that moment, he was at the mercy of the vampire's whim, for his heart was unable to forget when he had returned Walter's affections. At times, Walter had been kind and generous toward him, while at others his cruelty and violence paralleled that of his father. Joachim lowered his head in shame, knowing that his desire was, in part, a product of his own self-loathing and loneliness. Nevertheless, the longing in his eyes betrayed his attempt to ignore his feelings for the other man. Walter's eyes widened slightly and his face became serious. The vampire's fine lips formed a slight frown whilst his starlit eyes studied Joachim intently. Then, as though delighted with the white-haired vampire's statement, he replied softly. "It seems you are full of surprises tonight, Joachim."

He was tempted to free his face from his lord's hold but decided against it out of fear of contradicting himself. Nevertheless, Walter's careful gaze was beginning to grate upon his patience. Despite the other lord's gentle touch, he could not resist the opportunity to start another argument. An unforgiving sneer spread across his face when he chided. "Though you may think you know my feelings, I assure you, you do not."

The other lord's hand began to stroke his cheek, his fingers carefully touching the flesh as though it were made of porcelain. "So you think I fail to understand you…" Walter whispered, leaning closer to the young man until Joachim felt his lips nibble playfully at the tip of his ear. "Perhaps, you could enlighten me?" The vampire's thick, blood red hair tickled Joachim's cheeks. For the first time, he was conscious of how close Walter was to him, since their last 'encounter' had occurred when he was hungry and exhausted. Now, his gaze was alert, his eyes focused upon Walter's muscular form. Despite being heavily armored, Joachim could see the sinews of the creature's arms ripple when he moved.

"Perhaps." He replied. However, he knew that the time was not quite right – it was better to bait the other lord for a while to increase his desirability. It was easier to give in to his feelings than to control them. His pale eyes hardened when he shifted away from Walter's touch. "I am no fool. You cannot manipulate me that easily. I thought you wished to _speak_ with me?"

After a moment of silence, Walter's lips curved into a frown as he huffed under his breath. "I see you enjoy testing me, Joachim." The dangerous look in his eyes seemed to hint his temptation to strike him for his cheek. However, determined to maintain his composure, Walter leaned back in his chair and picked up his wine glass. "I love a good challenge." After draining his glass, a low chuckle vibrated through his throat, his eyes looking upon the youth with growing interest. He brushed away a few strands of his fiery hair, revealing the part of face once veiled behind a curtain of red. "Answer me this: what exactly would bring you happiness? I ask you this honestly. By no means am I implying you will receive it. Depending upon what it is, of course…"

Joachim diverted his gaze, his lips curving into a scowl as he hissed. "I want freedom."

The statement caused another long silence to ensue, which was partially filled by Walter when his hand reached for his wine glass. For a moment he kept the glass pressed to his lips, his eyes staring at the pale being seated next to him. "How unsurprising." Joachim noticed the other vampire was torn over whether to take it seriously or to laugh. Then, after noticing the scathing look upon the young man's face, Walter continued firmly. "You are aware that is an impossible wish for me to grant you."

"_Damn you, Walter_!" In the blink of an eye, he bolted from his chair and levitated upright, his eyes melting the cold ice once preserving his calm state. His hands balled into fists so tight he felt the sharp tips of his fingernails dig into his palms. "I deserve to do as I please! You never watch your other creatures as much as me!"

Walter's hand clenched around his wine glass. "Sit down!" The words penetrated into the depths of his soul, for they were so unusually calm and dark Joachim slumped back down into his chair. After he regained his composure, the red-haired lord ushered to the plates and helped himself to the food. "Such tantrums will get you nothing."

"Vampires don't need to eat." Joachim mumbled back as his lord took a few bites from a loaf of bread. "What is the purpose of this? Eating is so…_human,_ after all."

Walter held out piece of bread to him. "A little variety will do us no harm, Joachim."

Joachim took the bread from his hand and stared at it, noting that it was as fresh as the bread often made especially for him by the Creightel baker. The sight of human food caused memories to flood through his mind. He held the bread closer to his nose so he could take in its delicious scent.

Walter quickly swiped the bottle of wine off the table, replenishing his empty glass.

"Well," The vampire began again after setting the bottle aside. "Since its clear freedom is out of the question, what else do you desire?"

Joachim could no longer prevent himself from flashing an irritated glare, his eyes retuning to their ice crystal state that matched his forceful reply. "Why does it matter to you, anyway? Are you trying to mock me?"

Walter ignored the young man's reluctance. "I am curious to know what it is you desire in your changed state, what your heart longs to have…" his voice trailed away into silence. The sight of the vampire's dark eyes lingering upon him sent Joachim into another state of turmoil. "You are too delicate to be a swordsman."

"It seems your glass is in need of filling, allow me to do you that service." A slight smile crossed Joachim's lips when he picked up the bottle and refilled Walter's glass. His unexpected courtesy prompted the other lord to give him a skeptical look. "I have been ungrateful. I am afraid that a life of privilege has made me rather proud."

"Indeed it has." Walter smirked, though his flattery had an undertone of truthfulness. In the torchlight, Joachim's indigo colored robes and gleaming chest armor made him seem even colder, or perhaps nobler, than usual. The young man's icy blue eyes gazed back at Walter unblinkingly, his fine lips parting from his lord's observation. "Your arrogance is beyond measure." Walter added, his smirk broadening. "Despite your ability to find fault in others, you are blind to your own. Had you not been so determined to prove vampires legendary, perhaps you would have accepted your fate. It is rather ironic that you have become the very thing you tried to deny. It seems…your hunger for control exceeds blood itself."

"That is not all I hunger for." A small, coy grin pressed across the youth's pale lips. Though he was tempted to elaborate, he kept them pressed together, almost teasingly. He noticed Walter's interest in their little game was growing. The red-haired vampire leaned forward, his dark eyes unblinking, attempting to see through him. When the youth revealed no more, he huffed, resting his elbow upon the arm of his chair. One of his gauntlet-covered hands cupped his face as tendrils of fiery hair curtained over his right eye, veiling it from sight. The half-shrouded look made him unreadable. Joachim could only guess at what his lord was thinking during the brief silence that fell between them. A growing curiosity began to build inside him the longer his icy blue eyes clashed against Walter's dark, starlit ones. Barely realizing it, his voice softened, and he was the first to speak. "Walter…do you feel anything?" The red-haired lord blinked at him uncertainly, for the question was rather odd, which prompted him to clarify. "You have existed so long. Everything must be monotonous to you now. Perhaps, someday, you will lose interest in me."

A slow, knowing smile spread across Walter's lips as he replied calmly, his dark eyes flickering in the dim candlelight. "I will never grow bored with you, as long as you do not displease me." He paused, allowing the young man to absorb his meaning. When Joachim said nothing and glanced away, he added carefully. "Even though I have existed for centuries, I still find beauty in the world. I find beauty in you, as well. Our excursion tonight merely proved your worthiness of eternity…and me."

"Yet more compliments," Joachim folded his arms across his chest, his eyes glaring upon the demon. Despite the irritation he attempted to show, he felt his cheeks growing hot and bowed his head, curtaining his face behind the pearly white locks of his hair. "I wonder if you are capable of expressing genuine emotions, Walter. Centuries of life has taught you how to flatter almost anyone-"

Walter's eyes abruptly narrowed. The fine points of his fangs flashed into view as he parted his lips. The vampire's muscular arms tensed as he lifted his head away from his hand. "What I said was genuine, Joachim." His lord's expression had never been more serious until Joachim felt his eyes penetrating into him. He could not discern whether Walter was angry, offended, or simply eager to prove him wrong. Nevertheless, the twinge of frustration within his voice revealed he had struck a nerve. "Never have I lavished so much attention upon someone I turned. Even vampires can feel love, despite misconceptions of our kind as unfeeling, cold-hearted beings." With a graceful flick of the hand, he took another drink from his wine glass and added. "Do you consider yourself romantic?"

Joachim couldn't help but raise his eyebrows at the sudden question. "I never had much fortune in courtship." He placed the opening of the bottle against the rim of the wine glass and filled it so much the liquid skimmed the very brim of it. "Have you ever loved before?" For a moment, their eyes locked wordlessly, and Joachim could not ignore the noticeable flicker reflecting in the other vampire's eyes.

"Perhaps. You could say I am familiar with the meaning of love." The vampire leaned closer. "Eternity has taught me that love, despite its virtues, is damning."

Joachim saw through the glitter of delight in Walter's eyes, and beneath the glassy glazed mirrors beginning to shroud over them the longer they sat together. He reached for the bottle on the table. "Would you care for another glass of wine?" His lips curved into a slight smirk upon noticing that his submissiveness pleased him.

"Yes…more wine would do me good tonight."

"Of course." Joachim waited as Walter drained the last of his wine before lifting up the and refilling his glass. As he poured the claret colored liquid, his pale eyes bore into Walter's, and his voice became soft. "Really,Walter? You want _me_?" His words flowed from his lips far more easily than he expected. "I did not think you would ever desire a sickly thing like me." Despite taunting the other lord, something inside him urged him to continue playing their little game. He felt his heart quicken when Walter got up and approached him. Before he could get out of his chair, Walter loomed over him, his great frame casting a shadow across the young man's pale figure.

Walter's left hand wrapped around his jaw and raised his head. "I will never forget the night I tasted you. Even in your suffering you were beautiful, the way your body buckled within my grasp…" His whispering drove a wedge of anguish through Joachim's heart, and a loud gasp escaped him upon feeling Walter's left hand skim through the silken locks of his pearly white hair. Though he tried to look away, his pale eyes remained locked upon the demon, transfixed by his grace and beauty. Something about Walter was impossible to resist. Even though he knew he had countless reasons to despise him, his body felt numb and helpless in his presence. Walter's eyes penetrated through him, the dark, starlit optics gazing into his soul as if it were made of glass.

Joachim gasped upon feeling Walter's lips smother him in a luscious kiss. At first, he wanted to shove his lord away, his revulsion nearly overcoming his attraction. When they parted, a cold laugh escaped the youth as he threw his head back, allowing strands of his ivory hair to curtain his face and neck. "I know what you are trying to do, Walter," A slight smirk crossed his lips as he eyed the other vampire playfully, though the look he gave implied something far more serious. Next to Walter, his body was delicate and frail. If the other vampire wanted to, he could crush him in his fist like a bug. Yet, Joachim was determined to bait him again, taking his chances in spite of Walter's growing impatience. The other vampire's eyes glinted dangerously as he waved a hand, hissing under his breath. "Am I merely a toy to you? Something you can play with on a whim like a marionette on a string?"

Walter stared at him for a long time. To his surprise, the red-haired lord grimaced from the accusation. For a moment, Joachim regretted what he had said. Perhaps he had been too harsh. It was in his nature, after all, to criticize Walter whenever it suited him. "Must you always think the worst of me?" Walter whispered, his voice struggling to remain calm despite the air of offence permeating through his confident expression. "It seems you are not the only one who is misunderstood, Joachim. _Pity, the world does not revolve around you_."

The comment caught Joachim off guard. His pale eyes widened whilst his breath hitched in his chest, unable to respond to his lord's observation. In an attempt to hide his sheepishness, a tiny smirk appeared across his lips until he smiled, revealing the points of his razor-sharp fangs. Joachim ran his tongue across the pointed incisors, moistening his lips like a hungry cat. The provocative gesture was more effective than he expected. Walter's eyes immediately froze upon him as he replied silkily. "If only it did. Then, perhaps, I could have whatever I wanted. I suppose I shall have to cope with living in servitude, one way, or another."

"And what would the 'other' way be?" Walter asked, his eyes glinting. Coils of his lush hair fell around the curves of his elegant face, whilst he leaned closer to the pale youth, his attention completely absorbed by the creature before him. Coyness appeared within his eyes as his lips formed a slight smirk, silently urging his white-haired companion to continue.

Joachim's smirk broadened. He looked up at Walter confidently, feeling his lord's hot breath upon his face. "If you want to know, come closer."

Walter returned the invitation with a knowing smile, his black irises darting to the swords on the other side of the room. The blades had drifted dangerously close to the vampire lord's backside. Knowing he was caught, Joachim swallowed hard, his confident expression wavering. He expected Walter to strike him then, perhaps even to crush his throat in his grip. However, to his amazement, the demon simply leaned back and laughed. The vampire's laughter was audacious and loud, echoing off the walls as he raised his index finger and shook it at him condescendingly. "Ah Joachim," A loud, purposeful sigh parted through his lips. "Did you really think I would be so naive? I sensed what you wanted to do before you even tried. Nevertheless, your efforts to defy me are amusing. At least turning you into a vampire did not break your spirit."

Joachim hissed, his nails grinding into the arms of his chair. He preferred being struck to mocked. No matter how much his mind desired to hurtle his five swords through Walter's chest, the other vampire's powers were greater than his. Walter broke his telekinetic connection to his swords almost instantly, rendering the blades beyond his command. He could not fathom how the vampire managed to do it. Despite his skills, his telekinetic powers were still underdeveloped. The situation seemed all the more unfair in his eyes, since Walter had centuries to perfect powers that he was merely beginning to understand. "I hate you!" Joachim snapped, bearing his fangs at his lord with fierceness not unlike that of an angry wolf.

"I know." Walter's cunning smile broadened.

The resentment within the white-haired vampire's icy eyes intensified. If he could, he would have killed the other vampire without a second thought. However, his lord's calm expression made him doubt his resolve. Walter was just as capable of doing the same – if not more so – than he was. Many times, his lord used his powers to immobilize him and thrash him about like a doll. When he remembered the agony and humiliation, he bit his lower lip and his eyes narrowed, stinging the other vampire with a thousand curses. He wondered why he was not being punished for his defiance. Perhaps, Walter did not think he was worth the effort. Joachim gnashed his teeth, barely able to retain his composure as the other lord remarked in an attempt to berate him. "I was hoping you would be a better dinner companion than this."

"I don't care if I disappoint you." _Even if I tried to kill you now, I…do not think I could. I would rather have you – everything you are – for myself. No one on this Earth…loves you more than I. If you need me to prove it to you…I would do anything…for you…_ Although he was disgusted with himself, his harshness relented. "I suppose it would be unwise for me to kill the one who made me what I am. At least, for now…" A soft smile appeared upon his lips and his pale blue eyes glinted. "I envy you. You could have found a willing companion, someone stronger and more worthy of this life. I was a sick, weak, and hated lord. I can hardly see why you found me appealing."

Walter gave him an empathetic look, his deep voice dying to a low whisper in response. "I have my reasons. The more you resisted me, the more I desired you. That is all you need to know, for now."

"And what if I want to know more?" Joachim asked, eyeing the other lord, his lips parting slightly when their eyes locked. He felt the tension between them growing until at last, Walter broke their gaze.

"You are testing my patience, Joachim. Do not make this unpleasant again."

"That was not my intention." He rose from his chair, his levitating abilities providing him an eye-level view of the other lord that he had lacked when he was human. They were so close to each other that their bodies almost touched. Joachim felt Walter's eyes penetrating into him, trying to discern what he was about to do, or perhaps what he was thinking at that moment. The confident, yet subtly perplexed look upon Walter's face proved that he had failed to come up with an adequate response. _Are you unable to understand that I need you, now? I wish that were untrue…_

Walter's smile vanished, his dark eyes entranced by Joachim's serious expression and the soft curvatures of his ashen face. "Despite your efforts to subdue me, you shall always be mine, Joachim. Never forget that." His gauntlet-covered hand skimmed through the creature's ashen hair. The young man's hand flew over his lord's hand and grasped onto it tightly. Despite his aggressiveness, Walter fell still, unable or perhaps unwilling to strike him. He did not allow his lord the opportunity to reconsider. Without waiting for consent – and not caring if he received it or not – he smothered the vampire's cold lips with his own. For a moment, Walter seemed too stunned by the gesture to move. His great frame fell still, succumbing to the young man's passion and desire. Joachim's hot, slippery tongue combed the inside of Walter's mouth, delighting in the subtle taste of blood and wine. His hands flew to his lord's beautiful red hair, his fingers raking through the silky locks as Walter pulled him into a gentle embrace. Despite his pale, sickly appearance, he leaned into the other vampire until he succeeded in lowering Walter's impressive form over the floor.

Walter broke their kiss, his dark eyes glittering as he gazed up at the young man's transfixed expression. His lips formed a slight smile whilst his calm, blue eyes surveyed the red-haired lord intently. Everything within him told him to rebuke him and drive him away. _I love you…as much as I hate you…and myself. _He felt Walter's hands roam to the back of his chest armor, untying the leather trusses securing it one by one. Walter lifted the heavy armor away from his chest, his cold hands parting back his indigo robes, allowing the garment's beautiful fabric to slide away from the pale flesh until it fell upon the floor. The gleaming whiteness of Joachim's naked upper-body made a subtle gasp part through the fine curves of his master's lips. Walter's hand reached up and touched his face. His fingers skimmed across the smooth delicate curves of his cheeks.

Though frail, Joachim's lithesome figure possessed a dignified grace. The contrast between his lord's built frame and his own was telling. The young man resembled the statue of the Greek god, Apollo, his perfection and elegance rivaled only by the red-haired lord whose lips met his in a fervent kiss. Joachim felt the vampire's hot breath lick at his face as wanton desire within him escaladed. It was no longer enough to simply feel Walter's lips against his own. A soft moan parted whilst he pressed himself harder against his lord, demanding gratification. Walter's motions were meticulous, calm, and precise. His eyes, however, remained transfixed upon the white-haired youth. Like a fallen angel casting off its wings, Walter freed himself of his armor, at last exposing his sculpted and naked figure. It was hard to believe frail beauty existed beneath such a cold, metallic shield. Walter's skin was untouched by the ravages of time. Powerful muscles rippled beneath the snow-white flesh, its beauty matched only by its terrifying strength. Coils of shimmering red hair floated against his sculpted shoulder blades like fire. Everything about Walter entranced the youth completely. Joachim could not take his eyes off the other vampire's beautiful, muscular frame, which moved with mesmerizing grace and power. Walter's well-built form was capable of crushing him on a whim, yet now, embraced him tenderly, lovingly, and without regret. Though immensely strong, fragility appeared within Walter's eyes during that moment, as if the youth's power was capable of breaking him into shards.

Joachim's fingertips glided across Walter's chest, memorizing his lord's form as though he were a piece of art. His hands almost trembled; for he could barely withhold his excitement from realizing that something so perfect was _his_. He stared into Walter's unblinking eyes, feeling his lover's intensity engulfing him like a raging tide. He fled from Walter's face to his neck, caressing the flesh with the soft, cold touch of his lips and the heat of his breath. His lord's chest rose and fell, his breaths hitching when his wandering lips hesitated near his torso. He eyed Walter's lower half, his pale blue irises lingering upon the jutting organ between his legs. Like everything else about his lord, even his most sensitive region allured him. Coils of dark, red hair covered the tender, ashen flesh. His hand slid across, feeling its coarse hair against his fingertips. _As a human…I never imagined pleasuring another man, let alone myself. I admit, there were nights when I lay in bed, tormented by the temptation. Sometimes I would give in, though the shame I felt made it impossible for me to climax. Why do you want something that reviled most humans? You find me worthy of you. Of being taken by you…and pleasuring you…as long as you desire._

He pulled Walter closer, tightening his hold around his waist. A gasp escaped his lord's throat when his hand gently touched the erect member. Walter's hardness made his eyes glaze, whilst he delicately traced his index finger over the tip, feeling the slippery wetness of his lord's arousal against his cold, pale fingers. A dull ache began to fill him as he massaged the vulnerable area. For a moment he was uncertain of himself, until the sound of Walter's voice encouraged him. "Do not stop…" his lover's voice was soft, matching rapture of pleasure appearing within his dark eyes. A low hiss escaped Walter's throat as the young man's delicate fingers wound around the shaft and began to pump. His inexperience seemed to amuse his lover, for the guttural vibration within his moans exposed his need for more. Joachim tightened his hold upon the swollen organ, allowing his intuition to guide him, his increasing friction rewarded by euphoric moans. He was determined to drive Walter to the brink. His hand pumped even harder, whilst he lowered his head and combed the tip with his tongue. He could feel Walter's frame buckle beneath him and threaten to break under the escalating pleasure. He refused to relent until at last, Walter gritted his enamels and came, spilling his gratification over his hand. Joachim felt the hot, sticky wetness between his fingers and upon his lips as he released his hold. The young man brought his hand to his face, tasting Walter's seed upon his tongue. The salty sweetness made his eyes widen hungrily.

Despite prompting his lord to ejaculate, he knew their tumble had only just begun.

There were so many things he wanted to do to his lord – though, for the moment, killing him was not among them. A steady smirk crossed his lips whilst he lowered his face and ran his slippery tongue across the smooth, white flesh of his lover's torso. Walter groaned from his touch, his great frame shuddering as the young man's wandering lips kissed every visible part of his body, as if worshipping a god. Joachim ran his hands across his master's powerfully built thighs, relishing in the fact that, for the first time, Walter was at _his_ mercy. "How does it feel?" He breathed against his lover's ashen flesh. Walter's head lifted and fell back, the coils of his crimson hair splaying recklessly against his damp cheeks. Joachim's gaze intensified when his lips touched his lord's muscled shoulder, delicately dancing across the sculpted flesh until settling upon the base of his neck. He felt Walter's body tense, expecting him to bite hard, perhaps even preparing to throw him off if he dared. As if he were touching porcelain, his fangs lightly pierced the skin, careful to avoid causing unnecessary pain.

His body was growing weak, for he had not fed since their last encounter. If he hoped to drink a morsel of his lord's blood, he needed to be cautious and precise. He licked the shallow wound, whilst he lapped up the stream of blood freely flowing into his mouth. Streams flowed across his lord's flawless chest, its bright red color contrasting against the smooth, ice-cold flesh. After a moment, he released his fangs, and gently kissed the wound with his sallow lips. The taste of his lord's blood was intoxicating. Thin red lines streamed down the corners of his lips, whilst he glided his tongue across the wound, attempting to ease his lord's pain.

For a moment, a soft smile played across Walter's lips, until he seized the pale creature, pulling him forward until smothering him with his kiss. The possessiveness in the other lord's kiss irked him. Yet, he could not deny it, no matter how much his soul screamed for him to, for he was at last held. He could feel Walter's intensity, longing, loneliness, and pain during the union of their lips. Nevertheless, when it became too much for him to tolerate, he broke the kiss with a sigh. Curtains of his silky, white hair tumbled against his face when his head lowered, attempting to hide his resentment. Though he was physically weaker, as if he suddenly possessed the strength of a lion, he sat up and pulled Walter against him. Walter smirked and wrapped his muscled arms around Joachim's back in a tender embrace. Whilst he was subdued in his lord's arms, the youth's hand wandered to Walter's buttocks, feeling the soft, curvy flesh until settling across the tight orifice they concealed. Uncertain of whether or not to continue, his body tensed whilst his index finger stroked the circular opening.

Walter's voice was heavy and breathless, encouraging his hesitant companion to persist. "Give yourself to me, Joachim…you need not restrain your desires…whilst we are together. I will deny you nothing in this world, not even the pleasures of my body, for at last you are mine as much as I am yours." The youth hesitated, feeling his cheeks grow suddenly hot, whilst his hand began trembling. With a quiet sigh, he lowered his head, veiling his face behind his pearly white hair. To his relief, Walter was swift to detect his growing anxiety. The sound of his lord's low, gentle voice eased his pale companion's tension. "Do not doubt yourself…" he urged. "It is in fact quite pleasurable, despite the initial pain. Most things between lovers are; you will soon discover…"

Despite Joachim's uncertainty, he gave in to his lord's need when his delicate finger slid inside his lord's entrance. "Yes…" He heard his red-haired lover breathe. "Be gentle…use only one finger…to begin with." The muscles surrounding it tightened around him, though his insides were soft and warm, eager to accept the youth's intruding finger. Walter writhed, his head falling back and spilling his blood-red hair across his broad, muscled shoulders. "More," he heard his lord add, his increasing pleasure making his words almost incoherent. "You…must …add …another…." Joachim felt the other lord's nails dig into his back as his probing finger moved deeper, soon joined by another as he sought to loosen his lord's narrow channel. Fortunately, his fingers were moist from Walter's ejaculation, allowing for a smooth, gentle descent. _I was not expecting it to be this…enjoyable…?_

It was quite possibly the most erotic thing he had ever done. He heard Walter moan and gasp, watching his lord's organ begin to leak whitish fluid as he continued. "Deeper," his lord rasped, his voice breathless with elation. "Continue…and…do not stop..." Whilst he rubbed the tender area, he pressed his lips upon Walter's shoulder. Ever the opportunist, he knew his lover's ecstasy would permit him another taste of blood. Walter moaned, tightening his hold upon the frail young man whilst his body surrendered to the pleasure of his touch. Joachim rubbed his insides harder, forcing his lover to respond as he pierced his shoulder with his fangs and began suckling upon the flesh like a babe to its mother's breast. He rubbed the area harder and faster, for his lover's rapturous moans confirmed he had discovered the most pleasurable region. _Perhaps, I shall make you endure this a little longer…tis' so very easy, now that I know what makes you sing. Let me hear you groan and beg… _With a smirk, he continued to stroke his lord's insides, applying various amounts of friction to prolong the experience. His pale eyes glinted as he felt his lord writhe under his touch, succumbing completely as his fingers played him like an instrument. The white-haired youth did not stop drinking until his rubbing fingers unexpectedly drew Walter to a climax. Walter's dark, mysterious eyes widened as he spilled his milky white seed upon the young man. With a gasp, the red-haired lord's heavy frame fell backward against the floor, his chest heaving as beads of perspiration slipped down his face and neck. Joachim had managed to satisfy his hunger just enough before his lord collapsed. Blood trickled down the young man's lips, mouth, and neck whilst he returned his lover's elation with a greedy smile. Joachim laid down beside him and stroked the damp locks of his lover's blood-red hair. A haze seemed to appear within the demon's eyes, as he lay next to his fragile companion, panting and exhausted.

"You learn quickly." Walter breathed with a coy smile.

_At least my inexperience amuses you_. Despite the interval of rest, he sensed that his lord was not finished. Walter sat up upon his knees behind Joachim, pushing the young man onto his front and covering him with his heavier frame. Joachim felt his lover's cold body against his own, at last eliminating the distance between their blackened hearts and souls. Walter sought to consummate the union between their blood and flesh, like lovers on their wedding night. Walter's icy flesh pressed against him, making his swollen organ ache as his heavy frame covered his smooth backside. _Take the last of my innocence away…if that means serving you. _Joachim raised himself upon his hands and knees and stared at the floor, not caring if the submissive display increased Walter's power. He felt Walter press his face into his silky white hair, taking in his scent until his cold, velvety lips kissed the sloping curvatures of his neck. The vampire's hand combed through his hair, brushing it aside whilst his lips wandered across his scar. Walter's lips kissed the faded bite mark in an almost tender, and gentle manner, for it was significant to them both. Joachim smiled as he felt his lord's lips trail to his shoulder, kissing and licking his ashen skin, silently adoring the pale creature subdued beneath him. _Claim me, Walter, for no one else would. They called me the pale demon…but you call me…beautiful. _

Despite the fact the other lord was heavier, the vampire took great care not to injure him. He felt Walter's erection pause near his opening, ready and willing to take him – hard, fast, and even painfully. Joachim withdrew a heavy breath, closing his eyes as he felt the head of his lord's member begin to force its way inside. The demon's great frame pressed harder, so that Joachim had to use most of his strength to support the sheer bulk on top of him. Walter's hips rolled forward – unwilling to yield to the tight orifice until the tender flesh gave way, his fiery passion melting the iciness within his companion's pale eyes as their bodies converged. A low, euphoric moan escaped Joachim's throat upon feeling his lord's organ roughly impale his insides. The pain was so great that he cried out, his nails digging into the marble floor as the merciless, swollen member filled him. Breathless gasps escaped his mouth as Walter began to thrust, his great frame rocking with such force that he cried out. _You did not tell me it would hurt this much! _Pain filled every fiber of his being until white spots clouded his vision. His entire body tensed until, with a feral snarl, he hissed under his breath. "Damn, you…you….bast-" The youth's pale, widening eyes flitted to his thigh, noticing that streams of dark, red blood flowed freely down the ashen flesh. It frightened him when he saw it, for it was his own. He looked up at Walter's face, his wide eyes boring into his lord's until he felt the intruding organ retreat. The fluid covering the tip of Walter's erection dripped upon his thighs, mingling with the youth's blood and sweat.

Joachim gasped in pain, threatening to crumple beneath his red-haired companion, turned tormentor, as bolts shot through his insides. "Just what the hell is this supposed to feel like?" He gritted his enamels, nearly gnashing them, whilst he struggled to regain his composure.

"Pain is a natural part of this act," Walter breathed, before he sheathed himself inside the trembling creature beneath him once again. "Especially since you are unaccustomed to it. I will teach you …the meaning of _true_ pleasure…"

Joachim's unconvinced scowl was not enough to make his lover ease the force in which he re-entered. At first, Joachim fell still, feeling his lover's rhythmic movements inside his body. Walter's hard, fast rhythm created shockwaves of delight. He moaned again, gasping as his lord's icy flesh slapped against him, the sounds of his lover's breathless groans encouraging him to move. Joachim's pale eyes widened, attempting to break through the pleasure long enough to memorize his lord's rhythm. He tried to speak but the words were caged inside his throat, lost within his heightening moans as he bucked against Walter's heavy frame. Finally, Joachim allowed himself to follow as his lover's thrusts increased. The red-haired lord's member was hard and unrelenting, driving the youth to the brink of his restraint.

A tint of red flickered in his eyes when the Joachim rasped, almost mockingly. "Is that all?"

Joachim looked over his shoulder, his gleaming eyes gazing up at Walter's sweat-streaked face and gaping mouth. For a moment, he wondered if his master would cuff him for his impertinent remark.

Yet, Walter merely smiled, whispering softly. "It seems you are tiring, Joachim…but…if you insist…"

Without waiting for him to speak again, Walter began to thrust, harder and faster to the point that the young man could barely keep his position. The dull ache – the need to be filled, was fading away under the force of his lord's erection. Walter seemed to gain great pleasure out of the act. He felt his lord's hands gasp him by the hips, holding him as he continued to thrust, his red hair flinging around his ashen visage alongside the forward and backward rolling of his hips. Joachim gasped, closing his eyes, whilst he writhed and bucked, eager to meet Walter's pace. As he moved against him, his throat vibrated, unabashedly rasping the sound of his lover's name as if it were music to his ears. _Walter…! _Excited pants escaped Joachim's lips as he heard his lover respond, speaking his name in a loud, throaty voice, over and over into his ear. Joachim bucked harder, shuddering with pleasure as Walter's hand slid around his hips and grasped his throbbing erection around its shaft, pumping it ravenously. Raptures of pleasure filled the pale youth, his pale blue eyes wide and glazed as Walter's fingers rubbed his vulnerable tip. It did not take long for Joachim to bend to his will until he finally broke, gasping, and panting in gratification beneath his lover's heavy frame. _Centuries of experience have made you more resilient than I thought, Walter. As always, you are trying to best me… now, in the most intimate way possible…_

The youth lay exhausted upon the cold floor, unable to move, his eyes wide and glazed from the euphoria. He felt his lord's pale, smooth hand slide across his cheek and cup his face. Without hesitating, he turned upon his back and planted a kiss upon Walter's cold, hungry lips until he pressed his chest against his lord's, pushing him down beneath him. Walter's dark eyes widened, tracing his naked form in silent acceptance. He ran his hands across the curves of his lover's arms, feeling powerful muscles rippling beneath flawless, white flesh. Walter merely sighed as the youth slid his hands across his thighs and parted his legs. He wanted to know the forbidden pleasures of love, and to shed the shame it wrought within him. A smile creased the corners of Walter's lips whilst his pale lover straddled himself upon his muscular form. Joachim found himself gazing down into Walter's face, his lush white hair falling untidily against his shoulders and cheeks. The red-haired lord's breath hitched, whilst his hand wandered to his face and caressed his cheek. The moment he felt Walter's fingers slide across his bloodied lips, he nibbled upon them until he caught the delicate flesh between his thumb and index finger. A tint of red flashed through his gleaming optics. He was prepared to give himself in exchange for the warm, satisfying tang of his lord's blood. As gently as he could, he bit down upon the soft, fleshy tissue, his eyes locking upon Walter's pained expression. He wanted to laugh at the sight, for such a powerful devil had finally shown weakness.

Yet, as much as he wished to relish Walter's pain, his hips made a slow motion forward and shattered it like glass. With a subtle gasp, he slid himself inside, exchanging pain for pleasure. Though he did not know exactly how to move, he swiveled his hips forward until he felt his lover shudder beneath him. Rapturous moans fled from Walter's throat as he began to thrust against Joachim a bit harder whilst he moved, feeling Walter's warm insides tightening around him. His inexperience was telling, however, for his pace was slow and uneven. The youth's colorless cheeks tinted a shade of crimson and he withdrew his fangs, watching the blood slide down his lover's bleeding hand. Despite it, he did not withdraw himself, even though a smile threatened to crease the corners of Walter's lips. Without allowing his lord the opportunity, he continued to move, impaling his lord with his swollen member. His red-haired lover moved against him, his heavy frame gracefully dancing with his young lover's gentle rhythm. Though Joachim knew his companion had done the same for others, he was _different_. Walter needed him and wanted him. The powerful, magnetic force that drew them together had at last united them, body and soul.

Walter gasped and moaned, shuddering under the tender pleasures, for the youth did not need to be forceful in order to obtain gratification. Joachim closed his eyes, biting his lip, feeling his fangs pierce through his own tissue as pleasure encompassed him. Yet again, he began to gasp his lover's name as he rocked against his lord's fervent bucks like a ship upon a tide. Joachim's delicate fingernails grasped Walter by the hips, using his companion's well-built frame to steady his movements. He felt Walter's hand slide down his back, his nails digging gently into his skin. Explosions of pleasure continued to shoot through his body as he quickened his pace, losing himself in the warmth of Walter's insides and the sounds of flesh slapping together as he continued to thrust. Finally, he could withhold the urge no more, and ejaculated inside his lord's bucking frame. Walter cried out, his loud, deep voice filling the entire room as the pale creature collapsed on top of him, heaving from the exertion. Although it was pleasurable, he climaxed earlier than he anticipated. Joachim's eyes narrowed, hating his inexperienced body, which had been unable to make his lord climax along with him. Nevertheless, to his surprise, his lover did not complain. A mutual understanding passed between them as they lay together, panting and exhausted upon the cold marble floor.

Walter's lips covered his in a heavy kiss, whilst his fingers raked through his companion's damp, white hair. "You…have done well…" The red-haired lord purred in his ear as Joachim's pale, trembling form fell next to him on the floor. Despite his exhaustion, he smiled to himself, and was content to lie in his lover's strong embrace.

With a gentle sigh, Joachim buried his face in his lord's neck and whispered in his ear. "Don't ever leave me. I…need you…" The admission frightened him. He could not believe he said it until it was too late. His glassy eyes stared up at his lord's face, waiting for a cruel word or insult to follow.

Walter's hand stroked his hair as a soft smile pressed across his ashen lips. The red-haired lord's dark eyes lingered upon the pale creature beside him as he replied, with an unusual tone of gentleness. "I will never leave you. You belong to me, now, Joachim."

Joachim said nothing in response, except to remain in his lover's arms, his pale eyes burning. Even though Walter's protecting arms comforted him, they were somehow suffocating at the same time. He could not understand why, but the possessiveness in his lord's dark gaze was unbearable. Walter did not only want to love him – he wanted to _own_ him. Everything he was – body and soul. Yet, he smiled to himself in spite of it all, for it felt so very right to lie there, protected and adored. _Why must this be so difficult?_ Tears threatened to build in his eyes as he turned his face away, overcome with both shame and contentment.

_This feels so very…right. I belong with you, even though I hate myself for it. You mend my brokenness with your words and your body. Yet, why does something inside me still resist? Perhaps, it is because by giving so much to me, you took just as much away. My heart belonged to someone else, yet you claimed it anyway, like you always do. Human memories mean nothing to you. How can you understand what it means to live when all you know is death? Yes, you understand pleasure, even love, but not life. The only thing I have now is you. Whereas you rule over this castle, this forest, and the night, I own nothing. Tis' so very easy for you, to choose what to give and what to take – and when the time is right for both. Everything is easy for you when you are the one in control. Though I love you, I will surely be damned for it. _

_And you know it._

While his lord lay sleeping, he broke their embrace and crept toward the tangle of clothes scattered across the floor. He glanced over his shoulder, noting the fact that his lord did not stir. _Though you gave me what I wanted, there is something I want even more than you. Centuries of lovemaking with you might have compensated for servitude, but alas…_He searched through Walter's armor. Amidst the red steel, black undergarments, boots, and gauntlets, he found what he sought at the bottom of the pile. Joachim picked the Stone up, gazing at its glittering black surface whilst admiring its craftsmanship. He did not leave until he clothed himself, for he was unwilling to sacrifice his pride for the sake of time. Since he could not reach the leather trusses on his armor, he focused his mind and his powers to quickly retie them until they were secure. He stuffed his feet into his boots while checking to ensure that Walter was still asleep. His lover was sprawled across the floor, his arms lazily outstretched as if taking an afternoon nap. Walter's fiery red hair fell untidily around his smooth, ashen face. _If only things did not have to be this way…_ A dark scowl crept across the youth's pale lips as he left the throne room, clutching the Ebony Stone tightly in his fist.

_I have served you for the last time, Walter._


	22. Chapter 22: Entrapment

**Author's Note: **Well...it looks like Walter isn't going to let Joachim off easily. This chapter is kind of violent. As you will see, even Walter has issues of his own. Has anyone figured out what Walter's deal is yet? Hmm...

Also, since I am starting university again this fall, I am not sure how often I will be able to update. I will do my best to add chapters as soon as I can but I apologize in advance for longer waits between updates. If anything in my story is unclear or doesn't make sense please be sure to let me know and I will try to fix it.

Part III of my story is the final part and needs the most editing/re-writing. I don't want to update anything until it is satisfactory. In the third part, you will also see familair LoI characters...and one plays an integral role for Joachim...as you will find out, eventually. :D

Special Thanks:

As always, thanks to everyone who is reading this story! :) I admit, reviews encourage me to continue with it since I know there are people waiting to read the next chapter. So, if you feel inclined, feel free to leave comments/suggestions. I want to improve as a writer and it's always nice to know what people think.

Extra Special thanks go to my awesome reviewers: **Rahar Moonfire**, **LateNiteSlacker**, **AzariyaBelmont** (welcome back! :D), & **TheGhostisReal**

**Chapter XXII**

A satisfied grin spread across his lips as he slung the stone's golden chain proudly around his neck. He chuckled loudly and gazed up at the stone angel behind him, savoring a moment he would remember for eternity. Joachim ran his sharp fingernails over the stone's smooth, glittering surface, his face a mask of reverence._ I am tired of playing Walter's games. He made me what I am…he made me into this…monster. _A loud, wicked laugh parted from his lips. Throughout his human life, he had been denied control over his own fate. Spending an eternity as Walter's servant was so beneath him that stealing the Ebony Stone was worth the risk. His eyes darted to the book hidden behind the statue. Without delay, he flipped it open and scanned the handwritten texts inside. In a few minutes he came to the chilling realization that it contained nothing about how to use the stone. "What? How can this be?" The young man jerked his head back and slammed the book shut in a manner not unlike that of an angry child.

Relentless in his search, he lifted the book's leather cover, looking for a hidden compartment or message underneath. After flipping through the text once again, his rage diminished when his fingernails scraped off a layer of dust on the last page. His long nails scratched at the dirt persistently until he uncovered a line of faded black ink scrawled across the page. He the book closer so that he could see the messy writing clearly, and within moments dropped the book on the floor at his feet. _No… This can't be! Surely there must be another way, perhaps another method…but_… He felt his lower lip tremble and his hand mechanically slide over the stone he once revered, but now dreaded. _The Ebony Stone requires its master to be defeated before its power can be obtained. I would have to kill Walter myself. I will never be able to do that in this state! _

He fled the small sanctuary and flew into the corridor with the swiftness of a bird. The vampire clutched the stone in his hand, to the point that if he held it any tighter the bones in his fingers would break. All was silent in Eternal Night, except for the air escaping between his lips, reminding him that he still breathed like a human. _He will search for me. I can't return it or else face his rage. Yet, I am no coward…I shall not run …_With a wild gaze, he levitated across the entranceway to the opposite door, destined for the teleport room. The realization stung him deeply within his silent heart, severing his hope and causing his hand to enclose tighter around the stone. He nearly forgot to motion for the door to open, and almost slammed into it until he waved his hand at the last instant. He would have to hide somewhere, anywhere, deep within the castle until he decided what to do with the stone. The garden was one of the largest wings in the castle, with many ideal places in which he could conceal himself from the other vampire. His hand clutching the stone trembled, for he knew he would not be able to hide for very long. Walter would find him, eventually. Nevertheless, his previous disagreements with the other lord had been minor up to that point. He had given himself to the other lord willingly, despite the fact his instincts warned him not to. _I made a mistake stealing this stone. I shall tell him I was curious about it. I doubt he will punish me, for his affection for me has made him rather patient. If I beg for forgiveness, his anger will undoubtedly relent._

Walter burst through the door of the room. The vampire's cape billowed behind him, and his hands clenched into fists the moment they laid eyes upon him. His voice trembled on the verge as his dark eyes blazed with a fury the young man had never seen before. "_You_…how dare you defy me!" He roared. His once calm, eloquent voice was so thunderous the entire room trembled. Joachim fell completely still, his body unable to move as fear coursed through his withered veins. Walter approached him with the speed not unlike a bat flying out of hell. Within seconds, one of his gauntlet-covered hands snatched the stunned young man by the collar of his shirt. A terrible, angry snarl filled the other lord's voice whilst he seethed. "Did you really think you could deceive me so easily? I should have expected this! Return the Ebony Stone to me this instant, servant!"

Joachim didn't dare move except to whisper softly under his breath, infuriated by the demeaning manner in which he had been addressed. "_Servant_? I am not your _servant_, and I never will be!"

Tendrils of red hair cascaded against his pale visage, whilst his eyes blazed ever-more radiant. Before Joachim could attempt to squirm free, Walter slapped him viciously across the face. The force of the blow was so great that a bone in his cheek shattered instantly. A spurt of bloodied saliva flew from his mouth when Joachim wheezed, his head lolling sideways while bright spots of pain blinded his vision. A strangled cry escaped his bloody lips as Walter grasped him by the throat with a will to rip it completely out. Nearly mad with rage, the red-haired lord's voice deepened whilst he flung the pale creature against a wall. Joachim felt his armor nearly break apart under the force of the other lord's blow. Despite the steel encasement around his chest, his spine threatened to snap whilst Walter pinned him like a fly. "Hold your tongue, you insolent little wretch!" The vampire's vocal chords trembled in fury. The malice within the red-haired lord's eyes had a will to incinerate him. "It is time you recognized your true place within my castle! Then, and forevermore, you will address me as your _master_!"

"No…stop…!_"_ Joachim managed to make two words sound from his throat, despite feeling it would tear apart under Walter's hold. "No one owns _me_!"

Walter's lips formed a malignant smile. "You are in no position to demand anything! Though I was willing to overlook your cheek initially-"

"I am a _lord_!" He rasped, barely able to form coherent words as his mind began to spin. A part of him did not even understand what he was saying, however, the returned animosity within his voice indicated he no longer cared. His lips formed a scowl of disgust whilst he replied. "You can own my body but you can never own my soul, Walter! Think what you wish, but it will not change that fact-"

Walter cuffed him across the face with the back of his hand. The force caused the back of his head to hit the wall. Within seconds, his once sleek ivory hair was matted with blood. The liquid trickled from the gash in his head, spilling across the front of his silver-lined armor in a river of red. An agonized scream escaped his lips as the vampire's hand yanked his head back by his hair, nearly snapping his neck as though he were a chicken. Walter's bright, crimson irises clashed against Joachim's cold, steely ones. Blood poured from the youth's mouth, strangling his attempt to speak whilst Walter's other hand grasped him roughly by the lower jaw and squeezed. He struggled to breathe, feeling air become trapped in his lungs whilst his lord's voice lowered to a deathly whisper. "Can you hear that rumbling noise?"

The red-haired lord paused deliberately, allowing the young man's sensitive ears to catch the sound of something moving deep within the walls. He forced Joachim's head to turn and look at the door on the opposite side of the room. "Those stairs lead into a prison of unimaginable torture. In that room dwells a 'pet' of mine…perhaps I should introduce you? Tis' a magnificent creature, though, if I decided to lock you in there with it, I doubt very much you would agree. I had to use my strongest magic to seal the door to its prison. Perhaps now, my dear _slave_, you understand the implication." The vampire locked eyes with him and grasped the chain securing the Ebony Stone. With lightning speed, Walter snatched the object from the around the youth's neck. He stared at the Stone until his lips formed a sinister smile. "At last it is within my grasp again – and so are _you_. This time, you will not be let out of my sight so easily. Though I will refrain from taking you to my 'pet', I have a punishment that will suffice. A lesson must be learned."

Joachim attempted to cry out, but his words were lost in his lord's rage. Very quickly, he realized he was at the complete mercy of the other lord. The cruelty burning in the demon's eyes was unparalleled. The blood in his mouth tasted bitter and sour, not unlike defeat. He struggled against his lord's merciless grip, though his attempts were feeble at best. There would be no escaping Walter this time. Indeed, the fury within the other vampire's eyes blazed hotter than the fires of hell. In spite of the agony reaping through his body, the words fled from his throat. "Forgive me, milord…for stealing your precious little rock. Pity I did not throw it away – for that expensive stone must have cost you a great deal. It seems, for you, even power has a price-"

An enraged roar erupted from Walter's throat. "Silence!" Before Joachim could even bat an eyelid, Walter's fist smashed into his face. Blood poured from his once sculpted nose, flowing over his lips and chin as he gagged and struggled to breathe. The vampire had almost shattered his skull. There was so much blood that he could barely see Walter's infuriated expression. The red-haired lord bared his teeth, exposing the razor-sharp points of his fangs. With a snarl, Joachim bared his in return and gnashed his teeth, his own rage enough to rip the other lord's face off. As though he were a puppet, Walter grasped him harder by the jaw, nearly crushing his face in his vice-like grip. "You _will_ be silent!" His deep voice rasped, the power of his rage commanding the young man to fall still. "Since you are so eager to disobey me, I shall remind you of the fact your body and soul belong to _me_. You will soon discover you own absolutely nothing!"

A sinister scowl pressed across Walter's lips as a white light surrounded them both. Within seconds, the vampire lord transported him to the throne room. Joachim felt the other lord slam his back against the room's marble floor. A proud glint appeared within the vampire's black eyes as he lifted his armored boot and pressed it onto the young man's font, pinning him down like an insect. Walter's voice echoed throughout the room as if he was making a speech to a crowd of thousands. When Joachim struggled to lift his head, the red-haired lord tossed his gauntlets aside. The tips of his long, blackened fingernails were like knives whilst vibrant red shade in his eyes intensified. "You _will_ submit to me." A malicious smile appeared across his lips as he dragged him over to the chains strung on the wall. Joachim shivered as Walter untied the binds securing the back of his armor and ripped it off. The demon slid his ice-cold fingers inside the youth's robe and skimmed them over his body, pushing one sleeve away from his shoulder and then the other. In a moment, the garment fell away, exposing Joachim's pale, heaving chest.

Walter's face pressed against his cheek. "You will soon understand, servant. Very soon indeed…" a bemused smile replaced the malicious one, but it faded just as quickly as it appeared. "Stealing my most precious possession was an unforgivable offence. Thus, I will enjoy watching you suffer. Perhaps, now, you will learn to obey me!" Walter moved wrapped his hand around his neck, skimming it across his prisoner's flesh almost tenderly. "Death is what a human would face if they tried to steal from me. However, since you cannot die..." He shivered to feel the vampire's fingers skim over his lips and caress his forehead, running across it in long slow strokes while he struggled to swing his body away from his touch. The moment he tried to move, Walter dug his nails into his ribcage to keep him still. Although his dark eyes glittered like black diamonds in the torchlight, with their focused irises scanning Joachim from head to toe, sense of despondency lingered within his serious countenance. "Evidently, you have not lost your humanity. Why bother keeping it? Your father, despite being human, could not keep his. Bloodshed and war drove him completely mad."

Joachim gasped and attempted to turn his head so he could look at the vampire's expression. "What does my father have to do with this?" his smooth face contorted into a frown that replaced the once tearful expression.

A fleeting smile played across the other lord's face. Joachim let out a sickened scream as he forced his head away, breaking the other lord's gaze upon him. He closed his eyes tightly and imagined he would awaken the next morning in his bed at his manor. Strands of his blood streaked ivory hair cascaded around his shoulders and swept against his cheeks. The blood was warm, thick, and stuck against his flesh. He kept his head craned upward to the ceiling, and tried to pretend Walter was not there with him, but the moment he felt an icy cold hand grasp his chin and turn his head to look over his shoulder, reality once again entered his mind. "You are like your father. His blood tasted as sweet as honey on my lips, and tis' a shame I never managed to finish our quarrel once and for all. Regardless, the outcome was better than I imagined!"

"Stop!" Joachim cried, feeling more tears cloud his vision but he held back and shook his head away from Walter's hold. His body quavered under the chains while never ceasing to tremble under the cold air surrounding his bare chest. Tears forced themselves from his eyes and he stared at the floor, whispering in a voice so low it was barely audible. "You…_you_ killed him_…_!"

"I would hardly say I killed Lord Zaeviean…" Walter hissed, whilst a sadistic smile appeared across his fine lips. "Watching him suffer was far too great a privilege. Although he came to my castle to damn me to hell, little did he expect, he was the one who would be damned."

"What did you do to him?" Joachim croaked, barely able to form his whirling thoughts into words. As if the vampire lord's touch burned his flesh raw, he squirmed under the shackles in a desperate attempt to free himself from the entrapping iron. The realization of what the other lord implied stung him worse than the brutal beatings inflicted upon his body. A horrified gasp escaped his bloodied lips whilst his pale, unblinking eyes looked up at his tormentor's indifference. As if able look into the young man's injured soul, loud, cruel laughter reverberated from within Walter's throat. Joachim's skin drained of all color as if his mangled form was about to disintegrate.

"You know." Walter's once bemused smile faded as a dangerous glint reflected within his eyes."Ironically, your resemblance to lord Armster is one of your most accursed qualities. But it matters little, now. I made you immortal to preserve you forever. It pains me to see you are unappreciative of my efforts!"

Joachim gasped again and pulled back against the chains in refusal, feeling the cold iron dig into his flesh. Walter's eyes locked with him in an array of dancing gazes, holding his attention without even having to say anything further. "I owe you nothing!" A deep guttural growl filled his throat the longer he stared into the abyss that attempted to consume his soul and mind.

It was clear the vampire lord's patience was wearing thin when his demands received little consideration. "You owe me _everything_! You will submit to me, Joachim. One way, or another."

"I will not!" Joachim tempted his lord again, and gave Walter the iciest stare he could conjure under the circumstances. Although he knew resisting would not aid him in the least, the idea of submitting to Walter was out of the question.

A coy smile crept across the vampire lord's lips, and Joachim felt the earnest touches skim from his back to his chest, while a sense of fear began to etch within his lifeless heart. Once again a ruby glint returned within his eyes. Without blinking, he kicked the young man with his steel-clad boot, causing a torrents of pain to overwhelm his once defiant gaze. "I will _break_ you," he snarled. "Though your disobedience was rather amusing, I have grown tired of it!" His hand lunged to the young man's throat, gripping it tightly, suffocating the air out of his lungs. Joachim's eyes widened as the pressure upon his jugular increased. Faintness overcame him to the point his vision began to darken. However, when it seemed he was about to be pulled into unconsciousness, Walter abruptly released him. He coughed as his lungs struggled for air. A surge of pain filled his throat as Walter rasped in his ear, his words almost incoherent with rage. One of his hands fled to the stone around his neck and clasped it, securely, possessively whilst his dark eyes glinted. "The only way you could ever obtain the Ebony Stone, is if you pried it from my cold, lifeless hands."

"Perhaps someday I will!" He spluttered and coughed up blood. The red liquid continued to gather in his mouth, choking the air out of him as his head lolled backward. He felt the intensity of Walter's rage as much as if it were his own. It was unclear which of them would break first. Although he was chained and beaten, Walter's rage was escalading. Not even he knew what the other lord was capable of once his anger took hold.

Walter's hand snatched him by the throat and his voice lowered to a deathly whisper. As he spoke, his other hand tenderly stoked the Stone. His eyes glowed such a fierce shade of red that Joachim found himself at a loss for words. "That day will never come." He hissed, eyeing the young man in disgust. "Though the Ebony Stone's power is immeasurable, I would treasure it even if it were merely a simple, black rock. Have you any idea how I obtained this stone? You know nothing of me, Joachim. Perchance, if you did, you would wish otherwise!"

Joachim's pale eyes gazed at Walter's face. Terror began to seep within their glassy blue spheres as a brief silence fell between them. He sensed the other lord was tempted to tell him something, yet he was eager to perpetuate the young man's pain and frustration. A sad, but ultimately, sinister smirk crossed the red-haired lord's lips. Then, as though he were possessed, yearning developed within his cold, black eyes. Joachim knew what that look meant instantaneously.

The red-haired lord slowly removed the youth's wrists from the shackles. Helpless, weak and beaten, he collapsed directly into his lord's open embrace. Walter's long, back cape swished around his crumpled body as he laid his captive down upon the cold marble surface. Joachim shuddered when he found himself pinned under Walter's heavier frame. The vampire's hands roamed to his white britches before they groped the tender region between his legs. The feeling was so startling Joachim arched his back, attempting to kick his lord away from him with his ironclad boots. A chill made him shudder violently the second Walter's hands massaged his organ."Walter, please…!" He gasped. He did not want the other lord to take him there, on the floor, as if he meant nothing. Although he had consented to his lord's desires, he could not bear the thought of being used and thrown away. He struggled again but his body seized when the grasp held upon his organ increased. Walter pinned him harder onto the floor, nearly suffocating him until he began removing the armor cladding his frame. Joachim gazed at him unblinkingly, his claw-like fingernails scraping against the marble as he tried to slide himself out from beneath his lord's heavy frame. It was nearly impossible for him to escape. In his weakened condition, his body would give in to the other lord's desires, despite his unwilling mind.

"Leaving so soon?" Walter asked. The cruelty in his eyes made the young man grimace. "I do not think so. Not yet."

The vampire lowered himself at a kneeling position next to him on the floor, and slowly grasped his neck again to hold him down. Joachim choked at the firm grip secured over his larynx the moment he was mounted. Walter ran the cold tips of his fingers against his groin. A wicked grin flashed over his lips, and he pressed his hips against the prisoner beneath him and locked himself in place. The red-haired lord pried his mouth open with his lips, and inserted his tongue into the depths, relishing the taste of his blood. Joachim attempted to turn his head away, but gasped to feel a jolt of pain seared in his mouth. The liquid dripped out of the corners of his lips, while his lord's tongue intertwined around his own. He let out a strangled sob when the demon parted, whispering in his ear. "Not even your body is yours to do with as you please."

Droplets of water streamed down his bloody cheeks as his tears washed away the blood staining them. He felt Walter's heavy frame press against him harder, ready to take him if he did not speak the terrible, humiliating admission. At first, Joachim gritted his teeth and tried to look away. It was too much for the young man to bear. With a heavy sigh, he opened his eyes and looked up at Walter's face until the accursed words fled from his lips. "Yes…you are more powerful than I. Do as you will with me. I can refuse you no more…"

To this, Walter said nothing. The vampire gazed down upon him, his dark eyes glinting whilst he wrapped his hand around the young man's back and pulled him into his embrace. Joachim was so weak that his head and arms fell back like a doll. The red-haired lord's lips skimmed the tender flesh of his neck – sickeningly, loving, and possessively unwilling to release him from his humiliation. Joachim's delicate lashes fluttered closed, for he did not need to look at his lord to feel the demon's eyes scanning his pale, naked form. Blood streamed down his body. The thick, red liquid slid down Walter's hands whilst he lifted Joachim's limp form off the floor. A pool of blood appeared in the young man's place.

Joachim struggled to breathe, his mouth gaping like a fish as he gurgled upon his own blood. The sour tasting liquid he had once coveted threatened to suffocate him. In a desperate attempt to speak, he choked and forced weak, and barely coherent words from his throat. "…Release…me…." Whether it was out of compassion or cruelty, Walter turned him gently until the liquid drained from his mouth onto the floor. His throat cleared and he coughed, expending the last of his strength as silence encompassed his whirling mind. Darkness consumed him at the realization he was not even in control of his own fate. _If you want my blood, I shall give it to you willingly! _With a tiny grin, he drew a heavy breath and spat a clot of the crimson liquid on his lord's face.

An enraged scowl crept across the red-haired lord's lips until he shook Joachim's haggard form with a violence that could have matched the devil himself. A horrendous pain flooded through him when Walter's knee collided into his chest. The steel plating on his boots slashed apart the skin like paper. A piercing scream broke through the youth's lips as a stabbing pain shot through his entire body. Walter grasped him by the throat, dangling him above the floor like a puppet. A long series of steel linked chains flew from where they hung on the wall and coiled neatly around his palm. The chains rattled while he dragged Joachim's broken body into the cold chill of the night. Despite the thin red carpet covering the staircase, it did not lessen the agony he felt when his body smashed onto the platform at the bottom. The stars twinkled faintly above while he lay on his back, recalling a time when he had looked at them with wonderment. As a human, he thought his life would be brief, and so he had often admired the beauty and mystery of the night sky. Yet, as a vampire, such things would never disappear. There was no longer that sense of urgency, or perhaps, the feeling that he must enjoy everything before his life slipped away.

Walter raised one of his great hands, his power lifting the hapless young man into the air. The red-haired lord allowed the creature to dangled there until he threw the limp form against the highest flagpole adorning the railing of the staircase. With barely a flick of his wrist, the chains bound Joachim's frail, broken body tightly against the flagpole. The young man screamed in agony as the cold steel ground into his already bloody and tattered flesh. The blood staining his mangled body gleamed under the red moon's hellish glow. He struggled feebly against the chains, even though he knew his resistance was useless. Though he could barely see amidst the blood trickling from his face, he could feel the other lord's eyes staring at him as if to pierce his soul with his rage and grief. The malice within them was horrific, though the fury on his face somehow relented. For a moment, he thought he saw tears falling from his lord's black eyes, their once cruel abysses softening under the strain of the emotions they concealed – a demon's lament. The vampire's hand trailed to the Ebony Stone and stroked its glittering surface. Walter's blood-red hair tumbled against his cheeks as he spoke, the softness of his words lost in the howling wind. He whirled and returned inside the throne room, his cape billowing behind him until he disappeared from sight.

Joachim stared down at the place where Walter had stood, expecting his lord's return within a short time. The icy cold wind whistled in his ears and blew across his bare flesh, sending shivers up and down his spine as he writhed and gasped. The chains were so tight that they crushed his lower ribs and threatened to crack the fragile ones that had managed to sustain Walter's abuses. His eyes widened when he gazed below him and saw the rolling thunderclouds covering the ground.

Hours, perhaps even days passed and he did not see the vampire lord once. Like Prometheus, he was bound and tormented by the lonely wind. With a heavy sigh, he released an agonized cry into the darkness. The terrified cries of a frightened young man who, in that moment, was afraid of the cold, pitiless, silence of the night. A fire, once burning brightly in his eyes, had been snuffed out. He tried to convince himself his father's fate was impossible. He remembered his father's face before he died, the coldness of his hand when he touched it with his own, and the silence that followed when Lord Armster drew his last breath. Tears streamed down his face but froze under the wind's icy chill. As his broken chest wracked with sobs, he remembered the day he buried his father. It was the loneliest day of his human life. The sky was overcast that afternoon, blocking out the glory of the sun's golden light. It had been windy and his robes fluttered around him like broken wings, unable to follow his father into heaven – or hell – for he did not know where God sent such a man. He had watched Father Genesio recite prayers as his servants lowered the casket into the ground. That day he vowed to shed his grief and pain over his father's death. Yet, he knew he had failed to do so. The man was a specter in his life – for he resembled his father so closely he could never forget his face.

_Father, why did you go to Eternal Night? Surely, your arrogance would not have led you to believe you could defeat Walter. No man comes here unless he seeks to rescue the one dearest to his heart…_

…_but mother died twenty years ago…_

If his soul could shatter, pieces of it would have drifted away in the wind like dust. He did not understand the last words he heard his lord speak. His hair was a bloodstained mess, but still managed to fall gracefully around his face and shoulders. His chest had claw marks ripped deep within his flesh that still bled fresh and seeped the crimson liquid over the chains. The cold chill from the wind already began to numb his swollen lips and cake the blood tricking from the corners of his mouth onto his chin and cheeks. He forced his head up and stared at the starry night sky, and at the crimson in full view above the throne room's tower. The moon loomed like a fireball in the sky, so large and full he imagined that if chains did not bind him he could reach out and touch it. It was as he looked at it that he held his head high and coughed to clear his throat, and without a care for the searing pain it caused his voice echoed into the howling wind. "_Oh, if only the Ebony Stone were mine_…" his voice gave out again and his coughs turned to ragged hacking, until his head lolled and sleep overtook him at last.


	23. Chapter 23: Reflection

**Author's Note: **This is a **FLASHBACK **chapter to Joachim's childhood. I just wanted to get away from the plotline for a bit to provide further character background on Joachim's past. Joachim's father is really messed up. As Walter implied, Lord Zaeviean fought in the Crusades for most of his life and it's realistic for personal issues to have arisen from witnessing so much violence and death. I think Joachim's father slept around to alleviate his feelings of loneliness, though feel free to interpret him however you wish since none of his actions are explained clearly (on purpose!)

Also, I implied in chapter 19 that Joachim has a fear of "the black birds" (crows). Considering the fact that crows are scavenger birds that will eat almost anything - even corpses - it's understandable he would fear them as an ill child (constantly on his death bed) and as an adult. Joachim's phobia is known as "Corvidophobia" (fear of crows). I hope that makes sense, since I think having a fear/phobia of something makes Joachim seem more human and realistic. Fortunately, Catherine comes to the rescue in this chapter (yay!)

Ever wonder why Joachim's hair is shoulder-length as an adult and not long, like most hairstyles during the 11th century and pre-Renaissance period? I attempt to answer this question as well.

Oh, and one more thing...notice the woman Lord Zaeviean is with (ooh, scandal...) though Sara is NOT Joachim's sister or anything like that, since Sara would have already been born by that time.

Special Thanks:

As always, special thanks go to people who are reading this story, especially those who take the time to review my work:

**Andinah **(thank you for your comment, it means a lot to hear from you and know you love this story!), **TheGhostisReal **(it is always great to hear from you!) **Suikorin **(I really appreciate your detailed comments), **LateNiteSlacker** (heh, you know I will always appreciate your constructive comments!), **AzariyaBelmont** (lol...are you sure you want Walter to kidnap you? I'd freak out!), & **Rahar Moonfire **(thank you for beta reading my chapters)

**Chapter XXIII**

**~ * FLASHBACK * ~**

**-Joachim, age 10-**

"Catherine! Catherine! Ready or not, here I come!" He pounded up the spiraling staircase, his feet muffled by the red carpeting. His eyes blinked several times in the bright sunlight flooding in through the large windowpanes surrounding him. "Where are you? I am going to find you; I already know all your usual hiding spots!" He called up the steps, his voice echoing in the stairwell. Once he reached the second floor, he stumbled over the hem of his robes and nearly fell. Fortunately, one of his hands grasped onto the railing in time to steady himself before he bounded down the corridor. Tendrils of long, ivory hair fell against his smooth cheeks and down his back. A smile creased the corners of his lips as he ran along the hall, occasionally stopping to check behind its numerous ornamental statues. With growing excitement, he rushed to the room at the end where he entered the great hall. The massive high ceiling room stretched out before him. Streams of golden sunlight filtered through the hall's massive windowpanes. A smirk spread across the boy's wan lips as he padded toward the banquet table covered by a fine white cloth. Without hesitation, he flung part of the cloth up, surprising the young girl hiding behind it. "There you are, Catherine! You pick places that are far too simple!"

The girl fell backward in surprise, the thick ringlets of raven hair falling across her shoulders as she gasped. Her bright, green eyes blinked at him whilst she complained. "No fair! You didn't give me enough time!" The little girl's pouting frown clashed against his smile as she crawled out from beneath the table and stood up. "Fine! I will look for you then, now. I know you didn't count to ten, Joachim! I barely hid myself under the table before you found me!"

"I did so count long enough! You just count too slow. Besides, if you could make up your mind on where to hide, you would not have been found so easily." He held his head high and swished his robe.

She folded her arms across her chest, her cheeks flushing a fainted shade of fuchsia when his pale, blue eyes clashed against her emerald green. "Oh really?" She huffed. "You're so full of yourself! Don't you remember the time when I hid in the servant's quarters? You searched for me for nearly half an hour!" The boy's wan face lit up as he burst into laughter, confirming her defense, whilst she added. "All right, I will count to ten. You can only hide in here. If I catch you anywhere else you're a cheater!"

"Just count so I can get this over with!" he huffed loudly and whirled to scan the hallway.

"How rude!" Catherine remarked and folded her arms across her chest. Nevertheless, her eyes glittered with delight as she hurried toward the corner of the massive hall to begin counting.

"One…two…three…" The boy's eyes glanced over the hall, and when he was certain her back was to him, he raced across the marble floor as quietly as he could so that she would not hear the direction of his footsteps. "Four…five…." In moments he flung himself behind a long crimson curtain lining one of the massive paned windows. "Six…seven…eight…nine…ten! You best be prepared, for I shall find you a lot quicker than you think this time!" Joachim smiled to himself and waited, hearing her little footsteps skittering over the floor.

He heard shuffling and imagined her searching behind things, but when a few moments passed she called. "Where are you? You have not left have you, Joachim? I should have known you would be up to something, but I shall find you!"

He clamped his hands over his mouth to stifle a laugh, and closed his eyes in his attempt not to allow sound to part from him. Her footsteps grew in pace, filling his ears from their frantic search through the grand hall. He waited patiently where he stood, unable to see from the curtain covering in front of him, but when no more footsteps sounded his hands fell to his side and he raised his brow in confusion. After a few more silent moments passed, he shifted uncomfortably where he stood and breathed deeply with growing impatience. All at once the curtain concealing him suddenly was ripped away and he fell backward when a hand collided against his cheek and stung his flesh. "YOU! There you are! Found you!" his hand rubbed the area of impact, and he grudgingly glared at her with seething imprudence.

"What was that for? You're so mean!" he puffed his cheeks like an angry puffer fish and stomped away to look out the window at the sunny world outside. Her steps followed alongside his, and he glanced to see her graceful features soften.

"I apologize for that, I did not intend to slap you that hard. Perhaps that also slapped a little bit of humility into you-"

"Do not even consider that. If you were not a girl I would show you what I could do!" His eyes blazed momentarily but faded upon seeing her softened smile spread gracefully across her lips.

"I know." She whispered back. "Did I hurt you badly? Let me take a look." He attempted to jerk his head back when she reached out and touched his cheek, but he stopped to feel her hand run soothingly across it.

"I am fine! As if a hit from _you _would harm me!" he bit his lower lip from the feel of her warm hand, but she quickly pulled away and gave him a playful shove.

"I can tell you are about to cry, what with being hit by a _girl_ after all…"

H laughed the moment her giggle resounded in the room, and she lifted up the seam of her dress just slightly so she could run away from him. Her ringlets bounced lightly with her swift movements and he pursued her, easily running in front of her to block her path and smiling at the swift wave of surprise that washed over her features. "Joachim! I was merely joking! You scoundrel! How dare _you _treat a lady with such rudeness!" she grinned at him broadly and darted away when he reached out to grab her, and she bounded lightly away from him again, her trailing dress swishing with her steps over the marble floor.

"Are you scared of me? Yes, be scared then for I will be the most feared lord in this whole country!"

"I fear you no more than missing Sunday mass at church!" Catherine whirled and grinned at him with wicked amusement, and as he ran toward her he replied.

"Keep skipping mass then! Father Genesio says Satan will get you! You better watch out!"

"How many times have you nearly fallen asleep during Sunday mass? I swear, if Father Genesio finds out, he will make you say three thousand Hail Mary's and dunk your head in the holy water to rid you of evil!"

Joachim shook his head, his pale icy blue eyes glittering in the warmth of the sunlight while he resumed running toward her, his steps slowing when his breaths became heavier. "How can I rid myself of evil when it is present with me right now and speaking to me? Demon girl!"

"If you keep calling me evil I will tell Father Genesio of the countless times you flicked wafer crumbs at the monks instead of eating them like you're supposed to!"

When he came within a few feet where she stood, his breaths labored and he skidded to a halt, abruptly staggering toward the nearest window where he leaned a shoulder against it and panted heavily. "Joachim?" Catherine questioned, her voice falling serious. "Oh no, do not say it is that again…" he continued to breathe heavily and lowered his head, feeling the room spin around him as his frame slid slightly down the large windowpane. His eyes trailed to stare silently out the window, his lips firming into an expressionless state while he felt the color rush out of his cheeks. Catherine's footsteps echoed through the room as she hurried toward him, but his eyes strayed to stare out the window and froze open in disbelief.

When he looked a black carriage carted by two gleaming chestnut horses trotted up and stopped before the flight of steps. Joachim leaned closer to the window. The attendant driving the carriage hopped off his seat to open the door to the passenger compartment. Joachim's breaths grew heavy when a metallic silver boot stepped out of he carriage, until the passenger's sweeping silver robes glittered in the sunlight.

"Joachim? Are you okay?" Catherine's gentle hand rested upon his shoulder while the boy continued to stare wordlessly at the white-haired figure emerging from the carriage. "Please answer! Perhaps you should rest for a while …"

"I am not sick." He replied without looking at her. Tendrils of long white hair fell down to the middle of the lord's back in lustrous straight layers. The man's severe eyes seemed to detect the fact he was being watched. Before the boy could dart away from the window, his father's head lifted, and his dark blue irises focused upon him. Not even a hint of a smile creased the corners of his lips as they stared at one another. Even though his father had not seen him in almost nine months, he barely acknowledged the child in the window before he ascended the steps to the manor's entrance doors, disappearing from sight.

"Lord Armster has returned! I wonder what kind of battles he fought this time?" Joachim didn't move until she stepped beside him and pressed her face against the window and stared at the ground below. "Why don't you ever talk about your father, Joachim?"

"Because I have nothing to say." Joachim nearly snapped, though he caught himself in time, softening his tone as he continued to gaze longingly out the window. As he stood there, a large, black bird appeared suddenly upon the window ledge. The boy immediately drew back, a gasp parting from his lips when his eyes fell upon the creature. The bird's tiny black eyes gleamed in the fading sunlight as it opened its beak, letting out a loud, unpleasant cry and ruffled its feathers. The bird perched itself upon the window ledge, refusing to move as the boy's face drained of all color. Haggard breaths escaped through his wan lips as he staggered, nearly falling, until Catherine caught him in her arms.

"Joachim! I will find Anneliese-"

"No!" Despite the concern upon the little girl's face, his eyes remained plastered upon the large, black bird. He clutched a hand to his chest, his entire form trembling the longer the bird's eyes looked at him through the window. The creature hopped along the ledge, unfurling its glossy wings, continuing to release obnoxious cries.

As if able to read his thoughts, Catherine's attention darted to the window ledge. "Are you afraid of that bird?" She asked, though her voice was gentle and she smiled in an attempt to comfort him. Without replying, he nodded, his eyes wide and glistening, frozen upon the terrible creature and unable to look away. Catherine steadied him before hurrying toward the window, her ebony-colored ringlets bouncing with her steps. She approached the glass and tapped upon it with her index finger. "Shoo! Get out of here! You are nothing but trouble, you mean bird!" Even though her bold insistence was somewhat humorous, his fear overcame his lightheartedness. Yet, to the boy's relief, the bird released a last loud cry before it unfurled its wings and departed, its black form disappearing into the trees. "Come, Joachim. You are not feeling well again. I will take you to your room."

His mind continued to whirl until he found himself lying in bed again, with Catherine sitting next to him clutching a book. "Maybe this will cheer you up!"

All at once, the boy's pale eyes brightened, and he returned her suggestion with a broad smile. "Beowulf! You know it's my favorite!"

"Of course, since you have asked me to read it to you almost a hundred times…" Catherine giggled, whilst her emerald eyes glittered with delight, for his face at last regained most of its color. Even though the boy was pale, his cheeks flushed a vibrant shade of red when she continued. "I know you well. You can rest and I will read it to you. I am here now, so you need not be afraid anymore."

"Can you read the part where he fights the dragon?"

"Again? Well, if you really want me to, I will. I know you like that part in the story. I kind of wish there was more romance in it…"

The boy's face wrinkled as she stuck her tongue out at him and giggled. He fell back against the pillow, watching her intently, whilst she began to read.

* * *

"My, you are burning a fever today. I am afraid you shall need some rest." He attempted to sit up in the bed, but was gently pushed back down onto his pillow by a fair hand accompanying a weak smile. "You poor child, perhaps I should fetch you an extra blanket. Are you comfortable?" he gazed up at the light glittering auburn eyes that always looked upon him kindly. The soft fleshy features and stout but robust woman stood at the side of his bed occasionally running one of her gentle hands across his cheek. Struggle as he may, he found no strength able to let him sit up in the bed.

His voice had become barely audible when he tried to speak. "I-I…I'm fine…" he coughed and sank down into the cushioned fabric of his pillow, while his eyes watched the woman rise off her chair and place a damp cloth over his forehead, brushing back the strands of silver silk from his cheeks with a soft tint of empathy in her glistening deep auburn eyes.

"You do not look fine, my child." She whispered back and resisted him when he attempted to wave her away. "Perhaps I should inform Lord Armster of this-"

"No. I will be well again within the hour." He attempted to lift the cloth away from his perspiring forehead, but his hands felt like lead that weighted down in lifeless positions against at his side. When his chest rose and shook from the force of a cough that pierced from his lips, her attendance next to him persisted the moment she pulled up a chair and sat down at his bedside.

She continued to gaze at him with soft concerned reminisce. "No matter what your father says, I believe you are a strong child. You have your mother's gentleness, for much of her was given to you. My poor little Joachim, for so long you have suffered your ailments. Since the day I allowed you to nurse from my bosom I vowed to care for you, as I would have my deceased infant whose cries were silent from the moment he emerged out of my womb. You were a second blessing into my open embrace, and regardless you were a gift to this world that I will let no sickness put asunder."

"Father…does not want to see me. Where is he now?" his voice became faint and distant, especially when her head shook in turn with her reply as she began to fuss with his covers and insisted they were tucked over him.

"Your father has many obligations to attend to, however he would never wish you to fall ill…you are his only son, after all." Her assurance failed to convince him, but seeing the question remain in his eyes she leaned over and kissed his damp cheek. "There, there my little Joachim." She cooed softly in his ear in a barely audible tone, and when his eyes met hers and the soft expression worn over her features he felt a twinge of calmness flood through him. "Do not be distressed, for he fights in the name of the lord and proclaims the everlasting glory of Christ and God. Lord Armster has invited a few others to join his company – I am certain he shall make time to visit you."

Although her assurances were optimistic, Joachim found little reason to increase his hopes. His eyelids became heavy, and with a last kiss on his cheek she leaned back in her chair. "Now rest, my child." her words remained calm. "I will stay with you." He continued to force his eyes open, and with his anxious words his body tensed once again.

"All night?"

She nodded reassuringly, allowing a few straying wisps of her light carrot colored hair that had begun to fall out of its bun. "All night. Now sleep." Her words, added by the dim glow of the candle placed atop his nightstand, soothed his fears into a restless sleep. He hardly slept when he felt ill, and it proved so when his eyes fluttered open a few hours later, which he could assume had passed by the changing position of the crescent moon in the night sky. The window near his bed had shone both a ray of light and a ray of awareness to the passage of time, and when he looked at his nursemaid sound asleep against the chair, his restlessness inclined him to rise from the bed. His mind whirled when he swung his feet over and set them onto the cold stone floor, but he withheld a groan long enough to wander from his chamber and down the long deserted corridor marking his wing of the manor.

He did not realize just how far from his chamber he had wandered, until he stumbled on the opposite wing of the manor forbidden to him. The darkness had eluded his sense of direction, and added by his whirling confused bouts of dizziness and fatigue; he leaned against the wall so he could continue standing. The corridor was silent until the loud echo of footsteps resounded from the opposite end, and with a panic stricken gasp he flew around the corner and pressed his back against the wall. The steps grew closer, but they were made not by one person, but two for the sounds were separate and differently paced. He peered around the corner, and his eyes became alit when he saw the tall form of his father emerging from the darkness of the corridor. The gleaming silver shoulder plate donning the lord's left shoulder, added by the thick silver gauntlets cladding both his hands and long white hair, made the young child's eyes dance with guilty admiration that vanished when he noticed the lord did not walk in solitude.

Though Lord Armster's steps were as grave as if he was marching a funeral procession, the chestnut haired woman Joachim saw clinging to his right arm paid little heed to the solemn pace. "You are such a handsome devil." Her words sliced through the quiet air like the blade of a sword cutting through flesh. The woman's twinkling silver colored eyes shone with anticipation. "Come now, do not leave me waiting, tell me how you plan to please me tonight."

"Be silent." Lord Armster's words responded in a harsh snippet, and though it would have been intense enough to startle Joachim into silence, the woman ignored it.

"To be seen at the arm of none other than the untouchable Lord Armster is something of an accomplishment." The woman took no notice of the lord's annoyed glare.

He watched his father pull away from her grasp, but when her hands continued to cling at his arm his other hand flew and knocked her aside like a horse swatting a buzzing fly. "I said be silent!" his voice hissed, and the tone was loud enough to fill the silent corridor. "You are fortunate I have brought you to into my home, Lady Trantoul. Apparently, the virtue of wedlock has evaded you're rather audacious tastes."

"You speak such bitter words." The woman answered as her hands trailed to his nape and stroked the long strands of his hair when he stopped in front of his chamber door in the corridor. Joachim remained perfectly still, and watched with widened eyes when the woman pressed her lips against his neck and gave subtle kisses down to his collarbone. "Come now, cheer up milord. What can I do to please you? Name it, and if not, let me surprise you." A soft smile crossed her ruby lips.

His father spoke solemnly, his dark blue eyes glaring at the woman with visible contempt. "I do not like surprises. Let us simply make haste with this and be done. A woman of your caliber should have no qualms with making love."

The lord's hand reached for the door, and without further words he pushed it open and admitted her to follow him inside. "My, are you always this blunt?" the woman's sharp question was left unanswered until she sighed and walked behind him into the darkness of the chamber. When she moved to close the door, she shut it lightly so it was just partially ajar.

Joachim lingered in the hallway like a ghostly shadow, watching from around the corner but hearing only silence. His heart pounded in his chest as he took cautious steps toward his father's chamber door, tempted to speculate but fearful of intruding upon business that was not his own. The cost of being discovered for spying would be dear, and he was embarrassed about wandering around in his long white nightgown in the middle of the night. His nursemaid would surely be frantic if she discovered his absence. As painful as it was to go against her, he paused near the doors in a frozen state upon hearing sounds emitting from within the room. The boy blinked several times in the darkness and struggled to adjust to the lack of light. He swallowed hard as he leaned toward the door and peered through. To his horror, he witnessed his father and the woman tangled together in an array of bed sheets. The woman was draped beneath his father's toned frame, and he could not block out the unanimous gasps and groans parted from her as she arched beneath his pleasuring thrusts, her voice releasing loud cries whilst her dark brown hair tumbled down her back.

Joachim reeled away from the door, but as his frame flew back he stumbled over the seam of his nightgown and fell against the wall. Fortunately, neither adults had heard the noise, as he clamped his hands over his tear-streaked face. The room began to spin like a disoriented dream, and he whirled and ran as fast as he could from whence he came. The dizziness he felt only increased, and he tripped several times before reaching his bed where his nursemaid still sat against her chair asleep. Joachim dove beneath the thick covers where he allowed his tears to flow and dampen his pillow.

Eventually, he fell asleep, though his dreams were full of nightmares. Black birds surrounded him, their loud, detestable calls echoing through a dark forest. He was running, trying to escape them, but the black birds flew at his heels and pecked at him with their sharp, pointed beaks. Everything around him whirled when he fell, screaming, as the flock of birds landed upon him. Their beaks pecked at his ashen flesh, tearing it to pieces, unwilling to relent, even when his blood flowed across the dirt around him. The birds' wings outstretched and flapped noisily, deafening the sounds of his anguished screams. He hated those birds as much as he feared them. _I am not dead! I am not dead! Stop! _But they refused to listen to his cries. Their tiny, beady eyes blinked at him mercilessly whilst they continued to snap at him, the long nails of their feet digging into his backside as they hopped and flapped upon him. More birds converged, eager to find a place upon him before the others reduced his flesh to bone. _Stop! I am not dead! Leave me alone! _One of his bloody, torn hands outstretched across the ground, searching for someone to save him from the cruel birds. His pale eyes widened when he saw his father suddenly standing over him, looking down upon him, saying nothing and refusing to move…shadows crept around him, until the only things he heard were the loathsome cries of the birds, and the beating of wings…

The morning sun awoke him, and his words whispered from his lips the moment he became aware he was awake. "Father…father…why…?" his voice felt stronger, and he looked up into the grinning expression of the young nursemaid seated next to him on the bed.

"At last you have awoken, my child." Her eyes were alit with a joyful but still concerned aura. "Are you feeling better? Your father is not here at this present time, and I heard you calling for him since the middle of the night. My poor little darling…" her soft fingers caressed his forehead as he forced himself to sit up and gazed about the brightly lit room while the warm golden sunrays shining through the large windows kissed his face.

"I feel much better." He replied breathlessly as his mind warped to the image he witnessed the previous night. Had it all been a dream? He wished it were so, until the nursemaid helped him out of the bed.

"My," she exclaimed happily. "You look so much better today! Wait right there little Joachim, and I shall fetch you your clothes." He stood as if lost when she swept to he opposite side of the spacious bedroom and began to pull various pieces of fine clothing from the closet. "Tis' a rather stunning day outside. Vassal Kyran says a mare is expecting to give birth today, and since your father departed for Brendelham with the Lady Trantoul, I see no reason why you cannot visit the stable. Miss Corydon is expected to spend the morning in your company."

"Really? Catherine?" his voice instantly became lighter at the thought, especially when the nursemaid smiled and laid the clothes out on the bed.

"Indeed." She answered and began to unbutton his nightgown while preparing his robes. "Only if you are a good boy though, and you must attend to your studies like your father wished – I am expecting you back here by noon. Now, if you stand still, let me get you dressed."

The moment she reached for his shirt, he grabbed it off the bed and pulled it on without the slightest hesitation. "No," he protested when she attempted to assist him with his other clothes. "I can dress myself! Besides, you take forever and I want to go and see Catherine!" his voice shook with excitement that was further amplified when he finished getting dressed and bounded for the door.

"Wait!" the nursemaid called after him, and he whirled only to lunge and catch an apple. "Don't forget your breakfast. I want you to be a healthy boy, at least for a longer period than before, so you must eat do you understand, child?"

"Yes, Anneliese. I promise to return by noon!" he bounded out the door without a backward glance, and headed for the main entranceway of the manor. His legs were able enough to carry him into the crisp morning air outside, where he looked up at the pale blue atmosphere dotted with wisps of white clouds. The horizon was clear and the sounds of birds singing and bees buzzing refreshed the season of spring that had set in to warm the normally cold estate. Joachim bounded directly for the barn, and when he entered the large space his awaited young lady was there to greet him.

"Joachim, you're well again!" he smiled back at the soft features of Catherine, who stood beyond the threshold gazing back at his delighted expression.

"Yes, I'm well. Its wonderful to see you again, how goes your family as of late?" his question seemed slightly bland for what he wanted to say, but she reached for his hand and escorted him hurriedly into the barn. The smell of horses clouded his nose, but the young girl leading him around seemed to have little issue with it.

"Everyone is well," she replied in her light and merry voice, and as her face turned to look at him over her shoulder. "I'm glad you are up and about. You must come and see this! A mare is about to give birth. I bet you haven't seen a foal being born, have you?"

"Are you certain you wish to witness such a thing? I heard its messy business." He winked when she puffed out her cheeks and rolled her eyes.

"Of course I do!" she gave a hasty reply when they reached the stable and looked at the door already open as one of the serfs tended to the mare within. "I may be a lady, but I can witness just as many things as you! I thought you would get ill at the sight and run back to Anneliese crying." She gave a returned wink when he ignored her and stood watching the mare.

Within a moment of their arrival the equine lowered itself onto the ground as the serf received the newborn foal. Both children watched the long tedious process to its full extent, but when the placenta encased newborn began to slowly emerge Joachim chuckled when he noticed Catherine retreat slightly back the moment the bloodied sight came into view. After an hour, the newborn foal slid onto the straw covered floor behind the heaving mare. Within a few moments Joachim gasped to see the mare rise and turn to lick the birthing fluids off the tiny foal lying near her legs. The little newborn blinked several times and swiveled its dainty ears, listening to the sounds of the world for the first time. The reassuring whicker from its mother seemed to encourage it. Within the hour the creature struggled awkwardly to stand until it took its first unsteady steps around the stall.

"My, what a sturdy fellow he's trying to be!" Catherine's elated exclamations made a smile cross his wan lips.

Joachim extended his hand to the newborn, whistling softly to it under his breath. The foal's ears pricked forward in an instant, and its head moved to look in all directions for the meaning of the sound. Giving the foal a gentle bump with her muzzle, the mare urged the newborn to explore its surroundings. He whistled again, keeping his hand extended until he felt the foal's velvety muzzle brush against his palm. After releasing a hesitant snort, the newborn stepped closer to him, its furry coat gleaming like silver. "Hello there…" he whispered, trying to avoid startling the tiny creature. "I am Joachim, and I welcome you into the world."

"What shall you name him?" Catherine asked and reached out to pet the newborn foal.

Joachim thought for a moment. He was long past the age when a boy was supposed to learn how to ride a horse. Nevertheless, he was determined to learn in spite of his father's objections. The moment he laid eyes upon the foal, he loved it with all his heart. The foal's innocent, dark eyes looked up at him gently as it nuzzled his shoulder. With a smile, he glanced at Catherine and replied. "Cojiro. I am going to train this foal and learn how to ride. Nothing is going to convince me, otherwise."

"Cojiro!" Catherine repeated the animal's name, returning his smile with her own as her emerald eyes glinted. "What a regal name! If you learn to ride, can I accompany you? My father forbids me from riding horses…he says it's not lady like." Disappointment shadowed her face for a moment as she stared at the nuzzling foal.

"Of course I will, Catherine." The boy felt his cheeks grow hot. With a nervous laugh, he returned his attention to the foal and stroked its neck. "I hope you grow up to be a big strong stallion someday, Cojiro, and make your mother and father proud. A lot prouder than I have made mine…"

By the time he bid farewell to Catherine and returned to the manor, his throat constricted to know he was late. He ran inside the large estate and moved to hurry to his chamber, but when he reached the door his father's loud but calm voice stopped him in place as if he were struck by lightning. "How dare you defy me, lowly servant!" The boy peered around the doorway and saw the lord standing before the young nursemaid, but to his surprise the harsh tone in his voice did little to frighten her. "I told you the boy is to remain indoors at all times until his illness has improved. Why did you allow him to venture around with that heathen young girl?" His eyes widened when she ignored the lord's incensed demeanor with her undaunted reply.

"Milord, Joachim needs to go outside and spend time with other people, not cooped up in his room staring at books all day long. It worsens his health when he becomes depressed."

"No excuses!" Joachim heard his father's tone increase, however the lord's expression was curtained behind his long white hair that fell in layered strands down his sleek back. "He is my only son! He is not allowed outdoors without my consent! I am disappointed with your insolence, and I expect nothing but complete silence from my servants unless I allow you to speak. The boy is ill and weak, and if you let him run amuck then he shall ignore what he is capable of – namely his studies that are the only aspects worthwhile in his life."

The nursemaid shook her head and folded her arms across her chest, replying to his words with swift objection. "He is a child! Your cruelty toward him is unjust-"

The woman's words were cut short by the sting of back of the lord's hand when it stuck against her face and sent her careening onto the floor like a rag doll. Joachim sobbed at the sound of his father's voice that spoke like the hiss of a viper readying to strike a second time. "I do not allow servants to question my authority. Your services are no longer required at my estate, and you are to be sent to Lady Trantoul who you shall serve from this day forward. If you disagree with that, I am sure you can find a suitable place on the streets next to the beggars and harlots."

A cold scowl crossed the lord's fine features, but his words sent ruptures of gasps from the nursemaid who attempted to crawl away from him on the floor. "How can you send me away?" she rasped between panicked breaths. "Who will care for your son? His condition is serious, he could fall ill again-"

"I doubt that it is of great concern, especially since he is wandering about my stable. I will simply find someone else, perhaps even Father Genesio will be a benefit for him, but you are no longer needed nor wanted." The tall lord stood over her form writhing on the floor, but when his infuriated gaze changed to irritation, he grabbed her hair and moved to wrench her off the floor. It was that action that drove a spark of indignation through Joachim's soul, and with an equally enraged outcry he flew away from the doorframe and ran toward his father.

"Stop it, father! Leave her alone! I won't let you hurt her!" his hand lunged out to push the man away, but with the speed matching that of a falcon, his father's arm blocked his attempt and sent him reeling back onto the bed.

"Stupid boy." His father's voice spit when their eyes locked. "You are to focus on your studies and remain as silent as a ghost in my household. Unless I summon you, I do not wish to hear or see your wretchedly pale little face." The lord's long hair swept with his quick steps, and in barely a moment he departed from the room.

Joachim's mind was still spinning from the force of the blow, and he struggled to sit up until he felt two warm hands cup his face and lift him off the bed. His voice shook when the tears spilled down his cheeks, and he buried his face against her chest when she brushed them away with her hand and cradled him close to her. "Do not fear, my child." She reassured in the softest voice he had ever heard her speak to him with. He gazed up at the dim twinkle in her auburn eyes, accompanied by the carrot colored strands of her lovely hair he used to play with when he was small. "Perhaps I have coddled you too much. You are and will always be, like a son to me."

Just as his father had ordered, by twilight the nursemaid had left the estate, and in the passage of a few minutes his childhood passed away with her leave. Joachim watched her climb into an awaiting carriage through the large windows of the great hall, and stayed until the carriage carried her into the darkness of the night. The boy turned and fled the hall, where he deliberately made his way to the forbidden wing of his father's chamber. At the sound of the lord's voice slowly becoming clearer as he neared, he darted behind a corner and saw his father standing with the same lady he saw the previous evening. The woman giggled despite the grave expression washing over his father's features. "Yes milord, how might I be of service?"

A gentle sigh parted through Lord Armster's lips. "I…do not wish to spend the night alone, Lady Trantoul…"

"I see." A look of concern appeared across the woman's delicate face. "Perhaps, I can amend that."

"Perhaps." Lord Armster's dark blue eyes fled from her, until she reached and cupped his face with her hand.

"What is the matter?" She asked, looking at him unblinkingly, until he pushed her hand away as if it were diseased.

When a look of offence threatened to break the woman's compassion, he began, with an unusual hint of regret in his voice. "I will always need you."

"No…" She whispered, her eyes retreating from his icy gaze. The woman's lips trembled. "You will need me until I satisfy you. Tis' the truth, milord. I know your heart…belonged to your wife."

The lord opened the door and took her hand, a gesture that alit a flame within Joachim's heart when the woman smiled and followed him inside. They shut the door tightly behind them, though it still failed to stifle the sounds coming from within.

Such actions did not cease despite his hatred of his father's lust. He would venture to the great hall and look upon the portrait of his mother, remembering her despite never knowing her. He imagined his mother's voice sound no less than angelical, and always she spoke his name and reassured him from his troubles. Reality was far from his dreams. When her voice faded out of his mind, he realized he was gazing at a painted canvas with no life to ease his sorrow.

One evening, he awoke during the middle of the night and looked at his pale reflection in the mirror on the nightstand. The only thing he saw reflecting within it was his father's face. A surge of rage filled him as he lifted the mirror and let it drop upon the floor. The glass shattered everywhere, its sound breaking the stillness of the night. Without hesitating, he rummaged through the drawers on the nightstand until he found a dagger hidden beneath his study parchments. He had stolen it from his father's bedroom the previous night, after his father had departed for the East. He took the long, silky locks of his pearly white hair in his fist and slid the blade across. Within seconds, his once long, ivory hair fell upon the floor, leaving shoulder-length locks in its wake. A satisfied grimace crossed his lips whilst he gazed at his reflection in the mirror's broken shards. His father would be furious when he discovered what he had done.

The less like his father he was, the better.


	24. Chapter 24: Duplicity

**Author's Note: **This chapter is a prelude to chapter 25 (a very important chapter). Mathias will not re-appear again until near the end of part III, the third and final part of this story. It looks like the relationship between Joachim and Walter is starting to decline. If you want to know what happened to the people Joachim knew from Creightel, you definitely don't want to miss Chapter 25.

Also, FYI, after Part II is finished I may not update again for a little while because of university. Depending on how busy I am, updates might be sporadic and far between. However, I plan to complete this fic and will do my best not to leave my readers wondering what will happen next. I am hoping that the release of the new Castlevania game for PS3 and Xbox in October will entice more people to visit the Castlevania fanfiction section...and read this story! *crosses fingers* :)

Special Thanks

Special thanks go to anyone who is reading this story. Very special thanks go to my loyal readers who take the time to review. If you enjoy this story I would love to hear from you! ;)Also, very very special thanks go to **Rahar Moonfire **for beta reading my chapters prior to their release as well as** LateNiteSlacker**, who has given me several detailed reviews that have helped me improve this story immensely.

Also, **AzariyaBelmont**, I would love to see your drawing of chibi Joachim! It would be so cute! If you decide to draw it, please send me the link and I'll check it out! :D

Since I can't draw, I've always wanted to see other people's renditions of Joachim and/or Catherine. :)

**Chapter XXIV**

When he finally regained consciousness, Joachim found himself in lying beneath the stone angel. A rush of cool wind tickled across his pale, naked form as he sat up and rubbed his head. To his surprise, his clothing and armor was washed, repaired and set out neatly in front of the gated windowpanes on the floor. However, his attention averted to the opposite side of the room, where the tall, armored form of his red-haired tormentor leaned against the light blue door. Walter's ashen face wore a mask of seriousness as he looked down upon him, his dark eyes glinting in the room's aqua light. The vampire's long black cape fanned out behind him when he moved away from the wall. Joachim immediately cast his pale blue optics to the floor as curtains of his lush, ivory hair fell against his cheeks. Despite the horrendous wounds he suffered, the humiliation of his punishment wounded his pride. Nevertheless, he withdrew a breath and broke the silence. "Walter?"

A shadow appeared upon the demon's face as he continued to stare at the bewildered young man. A look of disgust reaped through his starlit eyes. Joachim did not know how long he had been outside; however, the wounds he sustained were gone. Bones, once broken, were repaired without the slightest scar. He pressed his hand to his cold, smooth cheek, noting the fact that the gashes and bruises had healed and suspected that it was not his own doing. The rage behind his lord's calm expression professed his part in his recovery. Walter's gauntlet-covered hand trailed to the stone secured around his neck and stroked it lightly. The demon released a heavy sigh, his low, calm voice filling the tiny sanctuary. "After trying to steal my possession, you are fortunate I am speaking to you at all. You have injured me with your treachery. It will not be forgotten."

Joachim's pale eyes burned as he leapt to his feet and collected his robes. Weakness shot through him like lightning bolts. He could barely move as lightheadedness threatened to drive him into unconsciousness once again. The trembling youth fell against the window, his eyes blurring in an out of focus as the full moon's ominous red light spilled across his ashen flesh. Whilst Joachim pressed his back against the wrought iron gate, Walter emitted a low, impatient huff. "You are still weak, for you lost a great deal of blood." His fragmented recollections revealed Walter tossing him about the throne room like a rag doll. Very faintly, he remembered his lord's cruel words eroding through his soul like acid. He donned his britches and continued to stare listlessly at the floor, temporarily unable to form his thoughts into words. His eyes glanced at his master's muscular frame, quickly catching the sight of the glittering black stone adorning his neck.

Without warning, Joachim pressed his hands upon his face and sunk to his knees on the floor in a fit of anguished sobs. Before he fully realized it, his voice attempted to reach through the red-haired lord's anger. "You should know why I tried to take it!" He cried out, not caring if his escalating emotions clouded his judgment as he appealed for empathy. "You stole everything from me until I had no choice! If you were in my position, would you not do the same?"

"Silence!" Walter swatted the air. Without even touching the youth, the motion slapped him violently across the face. Joachim fell back, his glassy eyes locking upon his lord as he nursed his injured cheek with his hand. "It displeases me to see you still defend your actions. Did you truly think that you could deceive _me_? Your arrogance is beyond measure, Joachim. If you think you can defeat me, by all means, I dare you to try." A sinister smirk appeared upon the demon's lips as he lifted his hand, summoning the young man's swords away from their leaning positions against the wall. The blades lifted up, circling around the youth's trembling form before they clattered around his feet on the floor. The red-haired lord folded his arms across his armored chest, his lips parting to expose his gleaming incisors. "What is the matter?" Walter hissed when the youth did not move to claim them. "I am waiting. Although you were a lord, you are entitled to nothing from me. If you want power, you will have to earn it…dear servant."

Joachim bit his lower lip, his eyes burning as his hands lifted from his face and fell by his side. Briefly, his pale eyes traced across the five swords scattered around him over the floor, their long metallic blades stained with dried blood. He could feel Walter's anger and pain without even looking at him. Tremors of regret filled him as he bowed his head and clasped his hands together in front of him. "I can't…hurt you again…Walter." With a quavering sigh, he whispered under his breath, against his better judgment. "_Forgive me_."

"You do not deserve my forgiveness." Walter sneered, his eyes flashing a tint of red as his powerful hand snatched the pale creature around the neck and pulled him forward. The demon's vice-like grip squeezed until the youth choked out a gasp in pain, his eyes wide and unblinking whilst the vampire's deep, ominous voice snarled. "The fact you would dare ask offends me."

"I thought you cared about me?" Joachim rasped, and his words were nearly choked in this throat by his lord's tightening grip. The young man's pale eyes gleamed, their icy irises locking against the fiery rage building within the other vampire's abyss-like glare. Despite Walter's growing impatience, the pale creature was prepared to use the only weapon he had against his oppressor. "I cannot kill you...because you are all that I have. The world abandoned me but you did not."

"And you repaid me by attempting to steal the Ebony Stone." Walter's hand abruptly released him. Joachim fell onto the floor and felt the back of his head hit the stone. The blow stunned him to the point that the lay where he fell, staring up at his lord's cold expression. Walter's lips curled while he loomed over the fallen young man, kicking him in the side with the sole of his boot. The blow, though somewhat restrained, knocked him onto his front like a wounded animal. He wheezed, feeling pain stab through his weakened body until he heard the demon sigh and looked up once again. Walter's hand pressed across his brow whilst the harshness in his voice temporarily relented. "I was content to keep you by my side. Now, it seems, my trust was for naught. You have disappointed me…"

"_Please_!" The youth rasped, unable to contain his sorrow as Walter's gaze penetrated against his. A trembling breath escaped his lips as he reached up to the red-haired lord, his fingers clasping the cold, steel surface of his gauntlet-covered hand. His mind began to spin whilst he forced himself to sit upon his knees on the floor in front of his lord's towering frame. Walter's beautiful face tilted down to look at the sickly, pale creature beneath him, as sobs wracked the young man's chest. _What am I without you? I am nothing more than a shadow of your grace and strength. Though you took me away from the world, you did it because you loved me. When you beat me, it was for the same reason. _He feared being alone. Even if Walter allowed him to be free, he doubted his ability to survive without his protection. The world would scorn him, hate him, and try to kill him for being what he was.

The most valiant part of his soul still clung to pride and dignity despite their vices. A profound aspect of him despised the way Walter dominated his thoughts. Instead of the world abandoning him, he was abandoning himself. But Walter did not see it that way. Joachim knew it the moment he felt his lord's hand lift and touch his face, tenderly caressing the cheek he had struck mere moments ago. Nevertheless, he felt the tension in his master's hand – the mistrust, hurt, and anger. The demon's emotions ran as deep as his own, although they were difficult to decipher clearly.

Walter's voice, now calm and soft, teetered on the edge of self-restraint when the strokes of his hand became more forceful, almost painful, upon his flesh. "Tis' against my better judgment to be forgiving," He whispered. "However, from this night forward, you _will_ accept my authority without question."

"And if I refuse?" Something inside Joachim broke through the haze clouding his mind. He did not know what possessed him to say it, for he was so very close to returning to his lord's good graces – or so he thought. Receiving forgiveness was one thing, but submitting to Walter was another entirely. _Tis' not enough for me to beg for your forgiveness, of course. You have to have your cake and eat it, too. _

Rage surged through his blackened soul as Walter's lips formed a taunting smile. "Must I explain?" A malicious, unyielding glare flashed within his eyes until they turned red, their glowing irises weakening the youth until he fell limp in his embrace. Despite Joachim's attempts to fight it, he found himself unable to move. Walter's elegant, ashen visage drew closer until their faces were only inches apart. Coils of thick, shimmering red hair cascaded around the youth's face like waterfalls of blood whilst the demon whispered. "Depending on your obedience, your existence with me can be pleasurable or painful. Perhaps both, if you wish…" A flicker of delight appeared in Walter's starlit eyes.

"I am not your puppet!" Joachim snapped, his eyes blazing with renewed vehemence despite his exhaustion.

"So you say." The red-haired lord raised an eye brow as one of his powerful hands pulled the youth's limp form against his armored chest. The demon's hand slid through his silky white hair, cupping the back of his head and pulling it forward as his contoured, ashen visage hovered above the young man's. Walter was so close to him that he felt his breath skim across his cheeks. His lord's abyss-like eyes sough to devour him with their black, mysterious spheres. Joachim felt the remaining color in his visage drain away, leaving behind an empty, frail white shell of his former self. Despite his hatred, he could not move under the penetrating glow. Even though the red-haired lord aided his recovery, he was still not strong enough to defend himself against the demon's greater strength and power. He felt his lord's muscular arms tighten around him, nearly crushing him, as the tension between them continued to build. Yet, delight filled him at the thought that he – and he alone – dominated the red-haired vampire's heart.

The unbridled strength of Walter's enclosing arms filled Joachim with a renewed sense of purpose. "The more I resist you, the more you want me." He breathed. "You cannot have everything you want, Walter. Not even when you want it most."

"Oh, but you are mistaken." The vampire's glowing eyes repelled the youth's icy glare, his voice lowering as he added. "I can, because I have you." Within a moment, Joachim felt his lord's lips press against his own, stealing away his chance to retort in the intensity of his kiss.

As if his lord's touch was like acid upon his flesh, Joachim broke their kiss and turned his head away. "You _think_ you have me. Stop deluding yourself. I am in no mood to play games with you now."

"This is not a game!" Walter snarled. The bright red glow in his eyes intensified when his pale, young companion refused to concede.

Joachim's lower lip curled as he hissed under his breath. "Must you torture me like this?"

"You are so dramatic even the greatest actor could not match your abilities. I should send you to the stage, perhaps then; you might amuse me with such ridiculous notions."

"Send me then, for I would enjoy the theatre far more than your company, _Walter_."

Without allowing him to continue, the red-haired demon threw the frail nobleman across the room. Joachim barely realized what had happened until his back slammed roughly against the wrought iron gate covering the windowpanes. Since he was not wearing his chest armor, pain ripped through his back like fire as he gasped in surprise and fell forward onto the floor like lead. "Foolish wretch!" Walter's low, ominous voice filled the small room as he whirled, turning his back upon the gasping youth as his armored form stomped toward the door. "I shall not waste my time with you. By all means sulk, if that is your wish. Though, you will receive no sympathy from me."

"I do not expect sympathy, since you are obviously incapable of it." Joachim retorted, not caring if his insult would entice his lord to abuse him further.

"And you are incapable of defeating me." With a loud, angry huff, the demon commanded the door to open and disappeared, slamming it shut behind him.

Joachim stared after his lord for a long time, his face paling whiter than snow. _What is wrong with me? _One moment, he was on his knees begging his lord's forgiveness, the next he could hardly stand looking at his face. With a gasp, he fled to one of the room's pools and glimpsed at his ashen, lifeless reflection in the crystalline water. Barely a second later, he pulled away, unable to look at the creature gazing back at him. Something terrible was consuming him until he no longer knew himself. Like a master puppeteer, Walter controlled him by invisible strings. His lord, once so tender and loving, was capable of extreme cruelty and barbarism just as prevalently. It would not be long before the beautiful castle of Eternal Night would become nothing more than a prison to him. The worst of it, however, was the fact that he had not realized he was Walter's prisoner until he saw the lustful, greedy glint within the red-haired demon's eyes. A profound part of his soul was slipping away the longer he allowed himself to succumb to the red-haired lord's whims. _I did something terrible by lying with Walter…and letting him take me. I have betrayed everything I ever loved – especially Catherine. If only I could be with her again, the way we used to be, before this nightmare. _

With as much dignity as he could muster, Joachim floated toward his clothing set out for him on the window ledge and finished dressing himself. He was not about to allow the demon to evade him so easily. The youth huffed under his breath whilst he left the room and made his way toward the castle's tallest tower, knowing the throne room was where Walter spent the majority of his leisure time. It disgusted him to imagine the red-haired lord seated proudly upon his throne like a bored, hungry cat. Even though his body had healed, his wounded heart and soul could not overcome the humiliation of being tethered naked to a flagpole. Although he had given himself to Walter, he began to consider the ruin he had wrought upon himself and grimaced. He had committed an unforgivable offence upon his body and soul. A part of himself wretched when he thought about the pleasure he felt during his lovemaking with Walter…because he had enjoyed it…

Within a short time, the young man arrived in front of the throne room's heavy stone door. Undoubtedly, his master lurked beyond, seated upon the throne and waiting for him to return. Walter would expect him to appear, eventually. It incensed him when he realized how predictable his actions were for the red-haired demon and his pale, sallow lips curled into a reproachful sneer. Very carefully, he pried the door open and peered into the large, open room without announcing himself. Something was amiss with his master, for an indescribable tension flashed upon Walter's smooth, ashen visage during their brief argument. Something else occupied the red-haired lord's thoughts and he was determined to uncover whatever it was. Not to his surprise, Walter was seated on the throne in a relaxed bored stance, with his feet stretched out and crossed. His other hand cupped his chin. The vampire lord leaned to one side, gazing lazily at the tactician kneeling before him.

Mathias' chestnut hair fell around his face before he raised his head and stood up. "My great lord," His chillingly calm voice echoed through the room. "My stay in your magnificent castle has been longer than I anticipated. Baron Leon Belmont will arrive from the East shortly. If you intend to obtain his betrothed, she must be taken prior to the wedding. I have arranged to meet Leon at my estate where I shall inform him of the lady's abduction."

"I do not have time for that as of late, Lord Cronqvist." Walter's calm, rich voice resounded through the room. With a hand, he flicked away a few strands of crimson hair straying across his smooth contoured cheeks. A frown creased the corners of his ashen lips. "I am not in the mood to play games. I have other matters that I must attend to immediately."

"What matters do you speak of, Lord Bernhard? Perhaps, I can be of assistance." An impatient frown creased the corners of the knight's smooth lips whilst a flicker appeared within his unblinking, dark brown eyes.

Walter's glare intensified upon the tactician. "Matters." He replied so curtly his tongue articulated the word like an angry viper. "I need not explain them, especially not to one whose debt is at my discretion."

"I understand your predicament," Mathias answered. "However, now is the most ideal moment. I regret it could not be at a later date, for when that time comes Leon would have wed her. I am certain when he does he shall refrain from battling to take ownership of the land Lord Trantoul bargained in exchange for their union."A long silence ensued once the knight's unhindered words were complete; however when Joachim began to draw away from the door the sound of the Mathias' voice stopped him in place. "Lord Armster. It is a pleasure for you to join us at this hour…"

Walter's frame jerked upright in the throne and his eyes narrowed. "Indeed, servant."

Joachim attempted to turn around and disappear down the steps, however before he could Walter waved his hand and flung the doors open. The youth's eyes widened in his surprise, and as if a vice constructed his throat, he choked as his body was forcefully pulled into the room by Walter's power. He pressed his hands against his neck in hopes of relieving the pain coursing in his constricted larynx.

The red-haired lord's lips formed a smirk. "Since you enjoy listening to my affairs, you may as well join us, my little thief."

"Please, Lord Bernhard, that is unnecessary." The tactician protested, and the sound of his voice sent Joachim's eyes looking straight at the face of the former human. Despite the irritation washing across Mathias' calm features, the man's dead eyes focused upon him severely. It was difficult for Joachim to believe that not so long ago, such a creature had once been human. Mathias' white skin contrasted with his dark brown hair and robes. Joachim managed to remain levitating when the force around his throat at last released. He drifted next to the tactician, his pale blue eyes glancing at the knight whilst Walter shook his head impatiently.

It was unusual for the demon to express anxiety, though he saw the emotion reflecting within Walter's dark, glinting eyes which lingered upon Mathias. "I will decide what is necessary." The red-haired lord hissed.

"Lord Bernhard, I strongly suggest you consider my advisement." Mathias resumed the conversation, ignoring the youth's glaring eyes as he flicked a strand of hair away from his face. A tiny, though somewhat chilling, grin appeared across his fine lips whilst he bowed his head again and continued. "I do not wish to interfere in your affairs, though time is against us…among other things."

Walter blinked several times before he backed away and eased himself back into the throne. "Is that so?" he replied in the same brusque voice. Joachim could tell his lord's patience with the tactician was thinning.

Mathias gave a somber nod. Then, as if aware of the vampire lord's thoughts, he began calmly. "I am aware of a developing situation regarding the massacre you and Lord Armster committed upon Dalwood."

"Massacre?" Walter smiled and shook his head, his beautiful red hair tumbling across his broad shoulder blades when he leaned forward in his chair and emitted a low, sarcastic chuckle under his breath. "I would not call it that…it was more or less an enjoyable feast. Only humans would call it something as dramatic as a massacre."

"Very well." Mathias replied with a dull huff, is chestnut colored eyes glittering with faint irritation. His voice became somewhat strained. "A rash of murders has arisen in Creightel. The villagers believe the vampire in Eternal Night is responsible. It seems they are organizing an attack upon your castle." Joachim's eyes widened, but they could not have met the surprise nearly as much as Walter's. "Further investigation would prove whether or not such a plan intends to be carried out."

Walter's eyes grew steadily wider, and his lips parted to form uneasy words that shook his entire frame. "Those wretched humans are plotting against me? It shall not be had! My sanctuary will not be disturbed!" Joachim felt Walter's gaze linger on him, however without addressing his involvement the vampire lord remained silent for a moment longer until his composure was regained. "Will they seek me out or not?" Walter folded his arms across his plated chest, drumming his fingers with growing unease.

As if amused by his reaction, the fallen knight gave an unconcerned reply. "I know not. If you wish to find out, perhaps you should travel there?"

Walter's gaze intensified. He slumped back into his throne and shifted in place, his lips curving into a frown. "Fools. They know nothing of our kind. I will not entertain their superstitions. If they wish to challenge me, let them come…I would enjoy slaughtering them all like cattle."

"Do not expend your powers on weak opponents." The tactician shook his head, eyeing the lord carefully and restraining his tone to avoid offending him. Joachim noticed that the man chose his words carefully, mixing truth with flattery in order to avoid facing the demon's unpredictable wrath. Despite the confident look upon Walter's face, the white-haired youth was quick to take notice that his lord's gauntlet-covered fingers continued to drum anxiously upon the arms of the throne. Walter shifted in his seat, his lips pursing whilst the tactician bowed his head again and continued, his deep, calm voice resonating through the large room. "A great lord, such as yourself, deserves to battle a worthy knight. If you are unwilling to travel to Creightel, perhaps your _servant_ could be of assistance?"

Walter lowered his head whilst his left hand clenched into a tight fist. After a heavy sigh parted through his delicate lips, his dark eyes flitted to the silent, watchful youth floating next to the fallen knight. Uncertainty rang through the demon's rich voice when he finally spoke.

"Perhaps…though he was their lord… I doubt he has the nerve to face his own subjects as a vampire. I shall deal with this situation, personally-"

"Leon Belmont is not to be underestimated, Lord Bernhard." Mathias interjected, his brown eyes locking against Walter's starlit ones whilst he added silkily. "I strongly advise you to conserve your powers. As promised, you shall receive the worthy adversary you desire. Leon would do anything to rescue his betrothed. I assure you, he will stop at nothing until he battles you."

"Humans are weak." Walter sneered, his dark eyes narrowing with growing repugnance. "I would have little difficulty culling those who attempt to attack my castle. Nevertheless…if this Belmont is as powerful as you claim…tis' meaningless to waste my time on a pathetic village. However, I doubt my servant is suitable for this task..."

"Quite the contrary, Lord Armster is in need of practice. His knowledge of Creightel shall enable him to deal with the situation quickly. I am certain it will test his allegiance to you."

"Indeed…for he has disappointed me greatly…tis' time to test his devotion to his master." Walter mused, whilst a sigh escaped his lips. The entire time, Joachim had held his silence, for he knew he would have no choice except to obey. A shudder ran down the young man's spine as he looked up into Walter's unblinking, starlit eyes. Despite the uncertainty flowing through his withered veins, the white-haired vampire feigned indifference to their conversation. It was imperative that he return to Creightel. Walter could gaze into his soul like a looking glass and sense his willingness. With a huff, the demon looked into the youth's icy blue eyes, his calm voice acquiring a hint of sharpness within it whilst he added. "Despite ruling over those humans, you are no longer one of them. I will consider forgiving you if you alleviate this situation. Remember the crimes they committed upon you when you were human."

"I cannot forget." Joachim whispered under his breath. Images flooded into his mind and burned his heart like fire. Sudden, visible despair seeped into his steely blue eyes and made them widen in fear. He was fighting a battle between love and hate within himself…and uncertain of which would prevail in the end. Hatred was like fire, for it spread and burned everything into ashes. Love was the only thing he still clung to, even though he no longer knew what it meant or how to define it. His soul was damaged like a cracked windowpane and threatening to shatter to pieces. The youth wrung his hands as he managed to croak amidst his doubt. "They condemned me, so I feel no obligation to protect them. Humans are pathetic, lowly creatures unworthy of pity. If dealing with this matter is your wish, Walter, it shall be done." A sinister smile spread across his lips and he flicked his hand, chuckling to himself. Though he knew not what the source of his subjects' fears were, he was determined to root it out and eliminate it. His former subjects were notoriously superstitious and capable of holding almost anything responsible for the deaths. If they were quick enough to blame him for his lord's murder spree, there was not an ounce of doubt in Joachim's mind that their ignorance made them unwilling to believe anything else.

After a long silence, Walter rose from the throne and descended the carpeted stairs toward him. Within seconds, Joachim felt his lord's eyes stare down at him, the intensity in his gaze prompting the youth to shrink back when his deep voice whispered. "Prove yourself." He could feel the other vampire's eyes penetrating into him as if to subdue the possibility that the creature before him could reconsider. "You belong here, with me...Joachim. Do not forget what you are."

"And what is that?" The young man sighed as he lowered his head and kneeled in front of the red-haired lord, the indigo tails of his robes fanning around him over the floor. His shoulder-length ivory hair splayed gracefully against his cheeks and shoulders and enhanced the gloomy, purple aura surrounding him. Even though he was dangerously close to his lord, he kept his five massive blades aligned still and resisted the temptation to summon them. Conflict was pointless as long as the red-haired demon held the youth's body, soul – and the Ebony Stone – in his iron-like grip.

The faint trace of a smile appeared across Walter's ashen lips as his gauntlet-covered hand tenderly cupped the young man's face. After drawing a breath, his eyes glittered whilst he replied darkly. "You are a tainted soul…who I have nurtured and protected. Nothing on this Earth understands you better than I. You will have to come to terms with your vampirism and accept the fact that you need me, Joachim - whether you like it or not."

To this, Joachim said nothing, for he could not deny the truth in his lord's words. Eternal Night was his sanctuary as well as his prison. The trees in the forest were like the bars of the cage isolating him from the rest of the world. A part of him embraced the fact that Walter kept him safe from humans, who would otherwise attack and kill him on sight. The powerful barrier surrounding Eternal Night prevented the sunlight from burning him to dust. When he thirsted for blood, Walter fed him – and when he was lonely, his lord comforted him with his body and embrace. However, Joachim feared what he would become if he stayed with his red-haired companion, tormentor, lord, and lover. When he gave in to Walter everything seemed tolerable on the surface. Yet, beneath Joachim's composed façade dwelled resentment so severe that his admiration for the red-haired demon was conflicted with hatred.

Walter's mesmerizing beauty and strength had the power to seduce the youth into bloodlust and darkness until there was nothing left of his human self. It would not be long before he was unable to recognize who – or what – his reflection represented. There was no escape as long as he gave himself to Walter's desires…even though he wanted to. Even though, in spite of his master's brutality, Joachim thirsted for Walter's attention like a spoilt child. He had never known a time when people did not scrutinize his pale, lithesome figure, white hair, and piercing eyes. It was as though God had created him for the sake of being noticed and treated with contempt and adoration by the world. Joachim belonged in neither heaven nor hell, for his soul retained the vices and virtues of both. Nevertheless, a perpetual hell existed within the young man's frail mind. He was about to revisit the life he once knew and treasured before it was stolen away by the demon's kiss. Joachim's thoughts swirled around Walter like a vortex, which drew soul into the demon's black, starlit spheres.

_You curse me with your need to have me, Walter. I will free myself from your power over my heart. You fear I shall abandon you when I return to Creightel…and Catherine. You have been alone for so long…that you cannot bear to let me go. The harder you try to keep me, the more I resent you and everything you have done for the sake of loving me._

Mathias gave one of the coldest smiles he had ever seen, before bowing to the vampire lord and stepping back. "It is the hour for me to begin my role in this exquisite game. Now I am required to engage as the bed ridden, loyal friend Leon chose to depend upon for truth and logic. Such an act will be time consuming, however, the results will be on a scale grander than you could ever imagine Lord Bernhard. _Far grander indeed_…" his voice faded like a broken wind, and in turn Joachim turned and departed for the door. He felt both Mathias and Walter's gaze follow him as he went, however he ignored it and silently drifted out of the room.

The night wind howled in his ears when he began his descent down the tower's staircase. The youth's pale, blue eyes stared into the dark, endless night. Though he did not know why, he paused in the middle of the staircase and rested his elbows upon the railing, leaning over it to survey the lonely red moon hovering in the sky. The moon's ominous light cast a shadow across his ashen visage. His dead, unblinking gaze wandered to the rolling black clouds veiling the ground beneath the tower. The wind whipped through his hair, causing its silky white strands to fly wildly about his face. The youth leaned precariously over the railing until he had to stand upon his toes to steady himself. _Jump. _A voice inside him urged him to let himself plunge into the dark, rolling clouds. Hell was inescapable. Even a fall from the castle's highest tower would not kill him. Without realizing it, his sharp, claw-like nails dug into the stone railing. _I am the only Armster heir left to rule in my father's name. They would not leave me here. Catherine would never stop searching for me. I will tell her everything and pray she does not despise me for the sins I have committed. _

Suddenly, the heavy stone door securing the throne room opened. Joachim noticed the tactician's lithe, pale form gliding down the staircase. Mathias' cold eyes focused upon the youth as he paused, his chestnut colored locks fanning around him under the control of the unyielding wind. Before the young man could turn away, he heard the knight address him with restrained irritation. "It seems you have failed to obtain the Ebony Stone from your master." A low growl sounded from the youth's throat as his glaring eyes stabbed the tactician with a sudden temptation to throw him from the tower. Mathias drifted next to him, his vigilant gaze never straying whilst he added smoothly. "The Ebony Stone fuses its power with the one who controls it. T'was not enough to simply take it from your lord, for his soul is bound to the stone. Only death has the power to sever it."

"Tis' courteous of you to provide this information to me now, Lord Cronqvist." Joachim returned the tactician's remark with a derisive scowl. He despised the man's calm expression as the red moonlight shone upon his pale face. "You knew I would not succeed."

"You would have attempted to steal it regardless. As I said before, everything you need to know about the Stone is in the book I gave you." Mathias replied and shrugged indifferently at the young man's scowl. His voice, though calm and soft, was audible amidst the crying wind. "Though you are determined Lord Armster, your impulsiveness is counterproductive. My old friend, Leon, is like you in that aspect…willing to throw himself into anything for the sake of the 'greater good'."

"Your old friend?" Joachim chided, his eyes hardening like icicles when they glanced at the tactician's pensive expression. "I am certain when he discovers your betrayal; he will hardly think of you with the same nostalgia." He looked away from the moon.

The knight's lips formed into a frown, whilst his hand brushed away the long, strands of his chestnut hair. Despite Mathias' silence, a growing darkness appeared within his eyes as his voice lowered to a whisper. "Tis'…regretful that I must use Leon, though he will understand what it means to lose the one dearest to his heart, as I have. The Lord works in mysterious…and cruel…ways. Leon's ability to defeat Lord Bernhard will test his worthiness of joining me in eternity."

The scowl upon the young man's lips deepened into the starkest form of hatred for the creature standing next to him. A terrible power radiated around the knight to the point that Joachim nearly backed away under the force of Mathias' penetrating stare, for was looking into the blackness – and seeing it look back at him. "I hope Baron Belmont is wiser than you," he snapped. "You have betrayed him. Perhaps, you are envious of the fact that whilst you grieve, your friend shall marry the woman he loves."

"I will save Leon." Mathias retorted, a twinge of anger ignited within his eyes as his hand clenched into a fist. "You know not what his friendship means to me. I would do anything to spare him from worshipping an unjust God. Even if it means the death of his bride, he will come to realize the truth."

"What truth?"

"That God is indiscriminate, cold, and unmerciful. Leon will discover that God will not spare his betrothed from her fate, the same way He did not spare my wife." Softness returned within the knight's eyes whilst he sighed, lowering his head and curtaining his face behind tendrils of his long, chestnut hair. Fleetingly, sadness shrouded his once calm demeanor whilst he whispered, as if to himself. "How I wish…Elisabetha…were with me, now…"

For a moment, Joachim's anger relented. He recognized the sadness in Mathias' eyes instantly, for it bore a likeness to his own. Although a part of him condemned the man for his decision to damn himself, a profound aspect of his own tormented soul understood his grief. God had been cruel to him as well. Yet, somehow, he remembered Catherine's strong faith and pictured the woman's smiling face in his mind. He missed gazing into her beautiful bright green eyes. The youth's reply echoed what, he knew, she would have said in that moment. "Why can't you believe that God brought you and your wife together? God created us all, even the woman you loved. Perhaps, her soul will be unable to find peace without you."

The sad glint in the tactician's eyes deepened until he turned away, his voice suddenly acquiring a coldness within it that repelled the young man's observation. Mathias' long, black robes unfurled around him in the wind. The man's ashen skin took on a red hue under the moon's ominous crimson glow, emanating a peculiar resemblance to being covered in blood. "Someday," The tactician murmured softly. "I will see her again…when our souls reunite. Until that time, I shall live in the shadows and curse God for taking her from me."

Joachim remained silent, for he had no answer or words of comfort to give the fallen knight. His own sorrow was so great he feared that if he listened to the man's words, he would plunge deeper into shadow. He watched Mathias turn to face him once more, the corners of his lips curving into a faint smile whilst his penetrating eyes focused on the pale youth. After exhaling a sigh, he added darkly.

"Hatred is the only emotion worth nurturing, Lord Armster. The humanity within you makes you weak. You will remain in servitude forever…unless you relinquish your empathy toward humans and your master. If you wish to rule, you must use your hatred to make you stronger. Anyone who opposes you must die, lest they live to destroy you."

The youth shivered as though the devil was whispering in his ear. His pale, blue eyes gleamed as he drew a heavy breath, unable to restrain his frustration. Although he despised the knight's words, he reluctantly admired Mathias' perceptiveness. The man understood pain and knew how to use the emotion to advance his powers. Joachim wished he were as wise, though the harshness in his voice concealed it. "You speak so effortlessly about killing, Lord Cronqvist. I owe a great deal to Walter despite his brutality toward me."

"But you hate him, do you not?" Mathias' dark eyes flickered as smile upon his lips broadened deliberately.

"I hate what he did to me." The young man broke their eye contact and stared at the rolling, dark clouds surrounding the tower. Uncertainty appeared within his pale, hollow gaze whilst he whispered to himself. "But…I still care for him…and know not why." The harder he tried to sort through his emotions, the further he felt from reality. He was snared in Walter's trap like rabbit and unable to free himself. The more he struggled, the tighter the demon's grip upon his heart became.

At least, he thought so, until he heard Mathias' voice amidst the howling wind. "You ruled your own lands, subjects, and laws. A once proud young lord has become a vampire's servant. If you do not destroy Lord Bernhard, you shall always be an insignificant pawn in his games. Unless, of course, that is what you desire."

"No!" Joachim's pale dagger-like eyes stabbed the knight with renewed antipathy. He slammed his fist against the stone railing whilst gritting his teeth. It was unbearable to think of the luxuries he took for granted when he was human. The youth raised his head, his eyes narrowing upon the full, crimson moon looming above the tower whilst he continued. "I will not give up until Eternal Night – and Walter – belong to _me_. Though I failed once, I shall obtain the Ebony Stone. However, a woman I know waits for me. I shall save her from the creature preying upon Creightel. She will know how to change me back, to make me human again... to save my soul, for I love her, still."

"Are you certain?" Mathias whispered in his ear, drawing closer to him like an ominous shadow. "Did you think of her when you let Walter take you? You know the pleasures of this world, Lord Armster. You would not love her the same way now. Perhaps, you shall see the extent of your lord's cruelty when the woman you _loved_-"

"Shut up!" He whirled and was tempted to strike the man across the face. If it were not for Mathias' mysterious, terrifying power, he might have been unable to restrain the urge. Nevertheless, Joachim's smooth, white lips curled into a scowl whilst his hands quavered in rage. With a proud snort, he snapped defiantly. "I would do anything to protect her. When I see her again, I shall know myself through her love. Catherine waits for me…so my love endures, in spite of my sins."

"Think what you wish," Mathias replied with a shrug, his eyes flickering with a growing darkness whilst he turned toward the night and lifted his head. The tactician's lush, brown hair swept around him whilst he added, with a twinge of amusement in his voice. "You are young and naïve, Lord Armster. Eternity will strip you of virtue until you have none left. Depart for Creightel then, and save the woman you _loved_. I wonder, if you are truly as human as you believe. Lord Bernhard would do anything to ensure you are his…absolutely anything…" A low, dull chuckle sounded from within the knight's throat as he continued to gaze at the crimson moon. Joachim watched Mathias look at him over his shoulder. Like a blacksmith, he stoked the fire burning in the young man's eyes, until Joachim's dagger-like gaze was so sharp it could have pierced through a thousand hearts. "Free yourself of your master's entrapment, and you shall reap the rewards of eternal life. If you cannot find the courage to reclaim your power, content yourself with being Walter's minion, slave, and servant for all eternity. It would be a disgraceful end to such a proud, noble family. I am certain your lord shall never release you, otherwise. Perhaps, if we meet again, you will understand the nature of Lord Bernhard's _eternal_ _love_ for you…"

"You-" Joachim's thoughts began to rage to the point that sent all of his swords at the tactician. The metallic blades attempted to stab through his chest, however, without even batting an eyelid the other vampire suddenly disappeared. The youth's eyes widened until they caught sight of the Mathias standing on the rooftop of the throne room, his robes billowing in the cold, night wind whilst his long hair whipped around him. Joachim's breath hitched in his chest as he felt a terrifying, wicked power emanate from the fallen knight. With a feral snarl, the youth bared his fangs. Even the wind, once strong, suddenly waned under the tactician's dark authority. As if the night itself bowed to Mathias, everything became completely still and silent. Even the moon's glowing light was suddenly shrouded behind the clouds in the sky. Darkness fell upon the pale creature as he stared at the man standing atop the throne room's roof, paralyzed by awe and fear of not who – but what – he was looking at.

They stared at one another with a will to drown each other in the intensity of their hatred. Then, after drawing a breath, Joachim broke the silence with his rage. "The night belongs to _me_, with or without those pathetic little stones that you and my lord covet so desperately! I shall rule this castle, this forest, and the darkness I have been damned to dwell within! I would stain my soul with blood to prove I am worthy of ruling Eternal Night. Walter does not know how far I am willing to go."

"It seems…not even you know, either." A smirk creased the corners of the tactician's lips. Then, without looking at him again, the fallen knight turned away and vanished in a puff of thick, black smoke. Joachim's eyes traced the starry night sky until they caught sight of wings fluttering toward the red moon. He watched the dark brown vampire bat ascend into the sky until it disappeared into the darkness. The moment it was gone, the wind returned and he was left to the mercy of the night. The youth sighed and began to descend the steps, his levitating form gliding downward into the depths of the castle like a demon returning to hell.

Upon reaching the threshold of the tower, however, a dark smirk spread across Joachim's lips whilst his pale eyes glinted a shade of red.

_I will rule Eternal Night, sooner than you think, Lord Cronqvist._

_Anyone who challenges my authority…whether it is you, Walter, or that Leon Belmont…_

_**Will die.**_


	25. Chapter 25: Hellfire

**Author's Note: **Well, here it is, the last chapter of Part II. A lot of secrets are revealed in this chapter. I hope that if you plan to read this, you read part I first, otherwise it might not make sense. I wonder if anyone expected the 'Walter secret'? I have been hinting about it since chapter II. Admittedly, I'm starting to dislike Walter, now. There is a lemon in this chapter as well, in case you don't (or do!) like lemons.

I'm not sure when I will be able to update this story again. Part III is still a work in progress and will take a great deal of time to write and edit. By Part III, familair LoI characters will show up (i.e. Sara & Leon), and I've decided that Rinaldo WILL appear again at some point as well. I really want to ensure that the plotline and quality stays consistent so I will not update unless I am comfortable with what I've written (which could mean more than a week or two between updates). Many of you are curious about what will happen to Joachim when Leon inevitably confronts him. I won't say anything for sure, however, the ending could go either way. Keep in mind that there are two different endings to LoI (depending on whether you play through the game as Leon or Joachim) so either one is possible... :)

Special Thanks

As always, I want to thank anyone who is reading this story. It means a lot to know that people like my work. Extra special thanks go to people who have left me reviews, which are invaluable to me as a writer. I would certainly love to hear what you think of my story before I begin Part III.

Thank you: haruharu, Rahar Moonfire, LateNiteSlacker, TheGhostisReal, AzariyaBelmont, Andinah, & Suikorin :D

**Chapter XXV**

It felt unnatural for him to wander like a stranger down the path leading to the village he once resided over. Joachim gazed up at the starry night sky above, and stared for a lingering moment at the moon. It was a crescent moon that night and the dim light it cast illuminated his unnatural ashen skin. The youth floated up the road toward Creightel until the sounds of human laughter startled him and prompted him retreat into the trees. He flew behind the trunk of a particularly wide tree and peered around it, curious to know who was about at such a late hour. It was not long until he sighed two familiar faces – Maurizio and Emmaline. The knight and the lady walked side by side up the road.

Maurizio's wavy brown hair swished against his shoulders whilst his metallic boots made soft, thumping sounds across the worn pathway. Since there was no fog that evening to cloak his presence, the white-haired youth remained hidden behind the tree watching them intently. Both humans were completely unaware of his presence. For a moment, he considered showing himself, until he remembered his frighteningly pale appearance. Indeed, if they saw him, he imagined they would run away screaming and alert the village. Thus, he resigned himself to remaining in the trees, whilst his pale blue eyes gleamed like aqua marine gemstones in the moonlight. The sound of Maurizio's joyous voice quickly filled his ears. Yet, the feeling he received from hearing his former comrade's voice was anything but nostalgic.

"Kyran is hosting a party to celebrate his new title, tonight. By the by, Lady Emmaline, you look absolutely stunning."

The woman smiled and brushed away locks of her caramel colored hair. She had donned herself in a long, gold colored gown. The gown's high collar fanned elegantly behind her head like a queen. Although Joachim knew she was wealthy, she was far from well off enough to afford such an extravagant garment. The young man eyed the dress suspiciously whilst she smiled and replied. "Why, Sir Maurizio Dellamaria! What a grand knight of his majesty you are, far grander than any still fighting upon the battlefield."

"Thank you, milady." The knight bowed. The movement allowed the young man to notice that the moon's light made his robes gleam like silver. Silver was his father's favorite color. Maurizio was donned in fine silver colored robes, and wore the most expensive armored boots he had ever seen - and recognized. The beautiful cloth made of fine material, and that had been stitched by one of Europe's finest tailors, had belonged to none other than Lord Armster. The youth's mouth parted in surprise. _How did Maurizio acquire my father's robes?_ As the question floated through his mind, he realized that the familiar looking dress Emmaline wore belonged to his mother. The garment was unmistakable, for he had looked through his mother's dresses when he was selecting one to give to Catherine. Very quickly, he began to notice that almost everything they wore belonged to his family. Worn upon their fingers were gold and silver rings. Though he was too far away to see them in detail, he recognized the artistry enough to know such pieces belonged to his mother and father.

"You know," Maurizio, continued to speak, and they stopped in the middle of the road. Joachim's eyes froze like icicles willing to puncture through their smiling faces. "To think, after Lord Armster disappeared there was no heir to claim his estate. Tis' a shame Kyran was forced to slave away under the incompetence of Lord Armster's son."

Emmaline's voice tensed when they breached the subject. "I thought you and Joachim were comrades? You speak so poorly of him, now."

"Comrades?" Maurizio broke away from her arm as if the implication was offensive to his ears. "I would hardly call him that. Joachim was a lord who thought highly of himself. He is a murdering scoundrel. You saw the travesty he committed upon those innocent women and children!" The knight folded his arms, his eyes narrowing upon her harshly.

Emmaline shrugged and persistently took hold of the knight's arm. "Yes, tis' true." She mused and shook her head. The long waves of her golden hair swept across her shoulders. "Joachim was a troubled child, and his poor upbringing should account for his devilish behavior. You know, despite Lord Armster's respectable name, he was a tyrant. Joachim's thirst for blood rivaled his father's."

"Tis' no wonder why Joachim was so pale and sickly. If it were not for his father's name, he would have been on trial years ago for witchcraft."

"How dreadful he was before he fled our village to hide in the forest of Eternal Night." The woman's voice was soft but terse.

"Yes, indeed." The knight soothed, but then perked when his hand intertwined around the sapphire studded ring worn on her index finger. He raised her hand to his lips and pressed them over the jewel, his eyes twinkling in delight upon hearing her giggle. "These gold rings will carry a fetching price at the market in Brendelham. I am certain, you are aware Kyran will be announced our new lord three days from now?"

Emmaline returned his gesture with a slight smile as her hand slipped out of his and enclosed around the large ruby resting on her neck. "I have seen harlots wear rings like these. As soon as you leave for Brendelham, I expect you take my rings to the market with you. Pity the Lady Arabella could not have had better taste." After pausing, she shrugged as he lips formed a coy little grin. As if something was terribly amusing, she leaned closer to the knight and continued eagerly. "I heard Lady Armster was an adulteress…"

The woman's smile was so malicious that the young man hiding in the trees felt the terrible stab of its cruelty. He kept his lips sealed together, suppressing the outrage building inside him whilst his claw-like fingernails dug into his palms. A shudder ran through his body. It was too much. The sounds of their delight and laughter rang through his ears.

"Where on earth did you hear such a thing?" Maurizio jerked his head back with a laugh. "Have you forgotten Lord Armster? His stare could freeze a man solid. I pity the poor devil that might have tumbled with Lord Armster's whore!" His chuckle reverberated through the darkness. The sound yet tempted the pale creature to burst from his hiding place, but for but a little while longer he forced himself to stay unnoticed in the trees. He could hardly bare to look at them, and each glitter of the jewels they wore and the garments they acquired burned his eyes like venom.

"Well then," The knight added with an air of satisfaction. "Joachim was, admittedly, a determined young fellow willing to try and turn the blame away from himself to Lord Bernhard. He was weak and as useless as a horse with a broken leg. Wasted talent."

"Yes, tis' true." Emmaline's tone flattened slightly, until the sound of separate footsteps came running up the path. "Oh look!" she exclaimed and took a few paces away from the knight to look at the newest arrival. "Jezebel, good evening! What are you doing wandering about at this hour?" She smiled when the form the other woman bounded toward them, and Joachim felt his throat nearly collapse when he saw Jezebel donned in a fine dark green dress lined with silver.

The other woman's thick strawberry blond hair bounced with her light hearted steps, although her words spoke the meaning behind her flight. "How goes you two tonight? Are you on your way to Kyran's party?"

"Indeed, we are!" Emmaline answered with a grin when the huffing woman stopped in front of her and fidgeted with the skirt of her long dress. "I adore that dress you are wearing, was it another of Lady Armster's?"

"Why, yes it was. I liked the blue dress better though, but this will have to do until I collect the other three Kyran promised me. Joachim also had an eye for the spoils of his father's wealth."

"How very true." Maurizio nodded in agreement.

Jezebel gave a bemused repeat to the word so it had an extra ring of malice. "People are still dying nearly every week. I imagine, that brute is not done with this village just yet."

Joachim's eyes pulsated a glowing red color that shone through his hiding place in the bushes. His nails carved deep scratches into his chest armor, and his fangs bared in rage.

They were animals and no less than common thieves. Maurizio wore his father's finest robes and donned himself in his boots and jeweled rings, given to his father from the king himself for his honorary services. Oh how his heart stung as if stabbed numerous times by their words, countless times until his blood was left to flow over the ground they trampled with their feet! He envisioned his beloved mother, the woman who held him before her death – called a whore and an adulteress. Nearly foaming at the mouth, his eyes narrowed into slits and the aquamarine glow of the swords floating against his back intensified.

His ears twitched as he listened to Jezebel's voice, his fiery gaze desiring to scorch her to ashes. The woman emitted a loud chuckle whilst she continued. "Like they say, bad blood destroys a clan and creates bad influences. The Armster clan was no exception. I have a rather keen eye set upon that attractive Lord Walter Bernhard. If he ever returns, I would gladly accept him if he requested my hand."

Her cheeks seemed to flush a shade as scarlet as an impish grin spread across Maurizio's lips. "A clever young lady such as you would do no less when choosing a suitor." His dark brown eyes twinkled in delight to match his eager words. "Joachim would have been an ill choice. Mothered by a concubine and sired by a bloodthirsty nobleman, tis' no wonder he turned out so poorly. A company of my fellow knights are bound to the forest of Eternal Night by tomorrow's eve."

Jezebel's lips twisted into a smirk. "I heard vampires do not appreciate the sunlight. Why not leave him upon the steps of the church so that he may see God's light ascend? I would enjoy watching him burn like the hellish fiend he is."

Emmaline's grip on Maurizio's arm tightened. "Yes," the woman agreed. "I found that disgraceful creature tiring, but are we not scheduled to attend another burning within the next two days? Are the rumors true about his horse, Sir Dellamaria?"

Her eyes blinked several times in successive impatience, though raising his head slightly more Maurizio gave a rigid nod. "I am afraid so, milady." He replied. "The day after Joachim's disappearance his stallion was discovered in the forest. Father Genesio deemed that the horse is suffering from demonic possession. Tomorrow it will be slaughtered and burned. My men and I have already tried beating the evil spirit out of it, only to no avail. That beast is wild and will allow no one upon its back."

"How dreadful!" Emmaline gasped and shook her head, brushing aside locks of her fair hair and twiddling excessively with the rings around her fingers. "I say tie that vampire to the pyre and set it afire. Let the wicked monster's unholy flesh burn!" Her laugh rang through his ears like the cackle of a witch, and with her cackling Maurizio urged the two women up the path. "Joachim was always dependent upon people in life, and now he shall be dependent upon them once again for blood in death-"

Maurizio's words were cut short by the sting of a blade that flew from the bushes and stabbed him directly the left shoulder. A petrified gasp parted from the knight's lips as his body careened backward and fell upon the dirt pathway. In unison with the attack, the two women stood as still as stone, and their mouths opened to emit horrified screams. They did not run but remained in place like frightened sheep as their assailant emerged from the trees. Joachim's blazing eyes narrowed, which made the sword ebbed through the knight's shoulder withdraw from the flesh in a spray of blood. His fangs flashed like knives under the pale moonlight, and the purple misty aura surrounding his body illuminated his slender form in the darkness. Wisps of his ivory locks swept around his tear stained cheeks as his blazing eyes intensified upon the two women. "You dare to spit upon the memory of my father and mother, and scoff in my face with your treacherous words? Now, I have discovered all I ever meant to any of you was by my assets alone and nothing more!" Joachim nearly convulsed in rage, and without a thought his swords encircled around his body as he watched their expressions become a vivid display of mortal horror at the mere sight of him. Absorbing their fear, a terrible snarl erupted from within his throat as he rasped. "I curse you all! May you all suffer the woes you wrought upon yourselves! If you wish to see a true monster, perhaps I shall show you the meaning of pain and suffering! Indeed, I can think of none who deserve it more than all of you!"

Not even a fraction of a second passed before two of his swords were sent forth at his mind's willing command. He watched the blades hurtle forward in their dazzling glowing array, before both made a combined sideward swipe at each woman. The blood gurgling gasp first escaped Emmaline as her hand flew to cover her throat. The sharpened side of the blade created a fine slit across the length of her larynx. The woman's deep blue eyes widened into saucers, as her hand pressed over the slit as if desperate to keep the flesh together when she fell to her knees and tumbled backward onto the ground in a pool of blood. Joachim hissed at the sight of her body strewn in a graceless heap, until his eyes diverted to Jezebel, who was staring at him while the blood trickled down her neck and over the beautiful encrusted ruby rested upon her chest. He clenched his hands into fists when the first of the bloodied swords returned to him. "Die, all of you! It brings me great joy knowing your throats shall speak no more gossip!"

Emmaline's lips moved, but her voice sounded only the faintest word clouded by the streams of blood that gushed from her open wound. "…Joachim!" then, like a battered rag doll, she collapsed forward onto the ground. The woman's face pressed into the soil where she moved no more.

"How can this be?" came another cry that made the vampire's eyes divert downward to Maurizio's frame attempting to get up off the ground. "Joachim, what happened to you? You have returned-"

Maurizio's body was thrown onto the ground at the wave of Joachim's hand, and although he heard the man's agonized screams, his words were cold. "That's right, lowly human." He began as he floated toward the fallen knight. "The only thing you were right about was the fact we are not friends. You are nothing to me, absolutely nothing." His eyes glittered like rubies upon the fallen knight's form still struggling, however when he neared, Maurizio's hand extended into the air and grasped onto the fluttering fabric of his robe. His brow furrowed when the man's head looked up to face his, and he found himself staring into the dark desperate gaze of Maurizio's shocked expression.

"Please, Lord Armster, I meant nothing by what I said! Kyran convinced us all to take your mother and father's items, what use do they have now anyway since they are dead? I am still your friend and I never believed anything Jezebel gossiped about anyway, the wicked wretch-"

"Shut up!" He continued to stare down at the man, diverting his gaze from his face to his hand clutched upon his robe. "How dare you lie to me! You are wearing my father's finest robes and jewelry, yet you were so eager to sell it at the market in Brendelham for whatever fetching price they would get. Have all the money you want, it's of no use to me anymore!"

Maurizio's hand tightened with his words, and in a sob the man's voice gave a shaken reply that sent the vampire into another wave of disgust. "Please, milord! Do not kill me! I am your friend, think of all the times we shared in each other's company! I brought you no happiness at all? I think not! I beg of you, I plead with you not to kill me! Please spare me, save me from an ill fate, forgive me of what I did!" Pitiful tears trickled down Maurizio's cheeks, tears that stung Joachim into a somber enraged silence. He pulled against the desperate grip of the man's hand, but when he would not let go his boot collided into the knight's wrist and crushed it down into the earth.

"You are no knight." Joachim whispered so quietly his voice changed into an unearthly tone of disgust. "A true knight does not beg for his life, but accepts death readily. As I stare down at you writhing at my feet, and begging like a stuck pig for your pathetic life, you define the very meaning of cowardice. These are the last words you shall ever hear from me: a vulgar cad like you should have his corpse and soul devoured by maggots– and you will. I shall make you that promise as payment for your ill deeds." Joachim waved his hand in the air that caused the knight to float upward off the ground and directly into his arms. Amidst Maurizio's pleading sobs he pushed back the collar of the robe and ran his lips across the supple flesh of the man's tender neck. There came not a pulse of regret when he bared his fangs and sunk them deep into his flesh, ripping at the skin so he could feast upon his blood. The scent filled his nostrils and caused his mind to become warped in pleasured hunger while blood flowed into his mouth and rushed down his throat. He felt the knight's trembling body convulse like the struggling prey he was to the vampire, a weak and pathetic creature at the mercy of his pleasure. He allowed his lips for curve into a slight smile until he drained the last of the human's blood. Then, with a feral huff, he dropped the shriveled corpse onto the ground and drifted away from the mess left in his wake. The furious youth ventured toward the village of Creightel, his pale eyes surging for vengeance.

By then, as he expected, the commotion caused the sleeping villagers to stir and wander from their homes like bewildered rabbits. He watched various men scurry about the streets and stop to talk to one another in confusion. His eyes blazed at the sight of them, and they turned and cried out upon noticing his slender form levitating above the cobblestone. The youth emitted a feral snarl, his rage echoing down the streets as men approached him to attack. He barely batted an eyelid when his blades flew away and sliced through the men running toward him. He ensured the impact was deep enough that the cut nearly severed them all in half, and with their blood spattered into the air, he took the scent into his nostrils and let his craving for it surge through his fangs. A low hiss seethed from within his throat at the sight of three men making a precarious attempt to attack him. Not even a fraction of a moment passed before he sent his swords away again, with the tips of the blades pointed forward with their flight and the gleaming rusted surfaces stained entirely with fresh crimson blood. The swords responded to his thoughts, moving with such precision that he delighted at the brief interval the swords surrounded the men and trapped them. There was only another moment of the air's silence broken by their cries, before the tips of the blades drove into each man's chest and jutted through their backsides. What remained of their bodies slumped onto the cobblestone in a grotesque heap of blood.

By then the rest of the village began to awaken. He saw lamps light in the windows of various houses, and listened to the dull murmur of frightened voices echo down the streets. It was just how it had been when he accompanied Walter in Dalwood – the same unwary reactions that spawned a sea of death. His attention diverted to a door of a particular house, when a woman opened it and backed away in a torrent of screams when she sighted his form levitating silently in the street. Joachim watched her with disinterest, but when she attempted to flee the house his mind pulsated every fiber of hate within his heart. The woman was sent flying back inside and to meet his will, he waved a hand that slammed the door shut. Joachim scanned the various alleyways until he discovered what he was looking for. A series of barrels were stacked in each alleyway. The commotion slowly began to overtake the village, and within the turmoil Joachim summoned the barrels and stacked them in front of the doors and windows of the houses. When he could find no more barrels in the alleyways, he used whatever else he could find to block the doors and the windows – namely carts left on the streets and beams of plywood.

He overheard the screams coming from inside the houses when the people realized they could not escape. Joachim waited until the bouts of screams were at their height until he arched his frame backward and waved his hands. His voice cried out at the sight of cracks appearing in the road and emitting bursts of flames from within. His eyes narrowed when the heated fires reached into the air and caught upon the strayed sticks of straw used as the outer layer of the roof of the nearest house as it was almost all the others. The fire quickly spread up the length of the roof and engulfed it in a fury of flames.

Thick black smoke billowed into the air, met by the loud screams and pounding of fists against the barricaded doors of the houses. It wasn't long though until he heard noticeable shatter of glass fill the air, which made his gaze divert upward at the window of a house on the second floor that overlooked the street. A man stood behind the newly broken pane holding a leg of a table that he used to smash the glass, and next to him stood a woman cradling an infant child. The moment the man attempted to climb out of the window, Joachim's eyes blazed and slammed the shutters against the once open way to safety.

It took less time than he anticipated for every single home to succumb to fire. The smoke intensified until a thick black haze covered the streets. Every time he passed a house he heard one form of intense screaming and thumping against the doors, and every time he ignored the sound as if it was non-existent. His hearing capabilities had increased tenfold since he was a vampire, however during that point his mind swelled hysterically. "To think I never realized how enjoyable this would be! What a fool I was to have abstained from drinking blood!" His bared his fangs and smirked from the smell of smoke mixed with spilt blood and flesh. He floated to a halt and stood with his hands clenched at his side, and the sleek form of his face lowered to unleash the frightening glare reaping within his eyes. The flames scorching the houses in his wake silhouetted his radiant purple frame to the priests running up the road. He noted all of them to himself, especially since the one in the lead was none other than Father Genesio. The moment they caught sight of his slender form, the priests withdrew large wooden crosses from their cassocks and brandished them in his face.

Father Genesio, however, remained still with his eyes wide and mouth barely able to form the words. "…Joachim? What have you done? You…you have become one of Satan's servants! Why have you committed such barbarous acts upon this village?"

With a loud huff, he parted his lips and revealed the fine points of his fangs. "I hate humans. Especially priests. Those crosses are useless against me." He watched father Genesio's reaction, the way the priests mouth firmed into a brave line made complete by his furrowed silver brow.

"I shall not allow you to harm the children of God!"

Joachim hissed between his gritted flashing enamels at the sight of their crosses clutched for dear life in their hands, as well as the jewel encrusted crucifixes worn around their necks. "I do not believe in God, and I do not believe any amount of Hail Mary's will save me from my 'sins.' Look at the beauty I have created! The flames dance and rejoice in burning your houses to the ground while suffocating the people caged inside them. Tis' too late for you to save anyone now – especially me." He licked the blood away from the corner of his lips. "I doubt God will save you when you die, for you are undeserving of it!"

The other priests stepped forward, brandishing their crosses and holy bibles. Joachim paused long enough to listen to their words, but he listened with deaf ears so the effect was limited. "Leave this place to rejoin Satan in hell, the power of the Lord our God commands you! The power of Jesus commands you!" The priests spoke in unison, but he noticed a dire reflection of animosity appear in Genesio's eyes. The old priest thrust his cross forward and held it out to him, his voice shouting overtop the clouded smoke and burning embers consuming the entire village as the houses caved inward and collapsed from the flames. "Get out foul vampire! Return to your place of darkness and torture, and in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit I command you to leave this place!"

Joachim continued to stare at the priest standing in his way. With a low, guttural growl, he swept forth and summoned a blade away from its stilled position behind his back. The moment his mind prepared to send it forth, a horrible burning sensation surprised him when the priest withdrew a small bottle and threw it at his face. The liquid seared at his flesh, and with a vengeful cry he clamped his hands over his face. He struggled to open his eyes, and when he withdrew his hands he noticed they were covered with water.

"Get out demon! Return to the darkness of which you came! The Lord our God commands you!" Genesio's words only amplified his enraged snarls when he realized the water thrown on his face had been blessed. Although it burned, when he touched his face, he was physically unmarked.

With a vengeful roar, Joachim bared his fangs at the offending priest. "_You condemned my child to hell, but hell is where I shall send you instead!_"

Joachim's eyes narrowed upon Father Genesio, who cried out and thrust the cross toward him. The pale creature noticed the direction the priest aimed, and realized if he attempted to lunge on him the cross would impale itself through his heart – the exact place a priest knew where to strike in hopes of killing him. Joachim wrenched it from his grasp. The priest recoiled in defense, but when Genesio made an attempt to retrieve another bottle of holy water, he struck the man's face with the cross. Blood spattered the air, though it was not enough of a blow to kill the man. The priest writhed in anguish, his form trembling whilst the youth grasped the handle of one of his swords. With the ferocity of a demon, he raised the mighty blade and brought it down upon the priest' throat and severed the man's neck. Blood spilled across the cassock and covered his hands. With a smirk, he pressed his fingers to his lips and tasted its sweetness whilst grabbing the man's severed head by the hair. He held the head up and stared at the priest's frozen, lifeless expression. "Alas, poor Genesio! I knew him. Tis' a shame he died so quickly. I hope he enjoys burning in hell!" Blood seeped into the cobblestone around his feet, drenching his silver lined boots in the putrid red liquid. Wild, unbroken laugher escaped his throat whilst he carried it with him like a trophy, relishing the sight of death.

Without hesitating, he sent all five of his swords directly at the remaining priests. A rupture of screams pieced the night air when each sword impaled a priest. The black cassocks they wore became drenched with blood. His eyes glowed crimson as he drifted through the vapors of smoke and continued on his way up the road.

"Come out, wherever you are!" Joachim screamed into the night, not caring if there was no one left alive to hear him. "I am the pale horseman, the one who seeks your blood and your lives! ] Where is God to save you? I see Him not! I see nothing except the fires of hell engulfing your wretched, worthless souls!"

His laughter rang through the empty streets like a devil. Yet, as the flames seared and licked at him like the tongues of serpents, unwilling tears appeared in his eyes. The hot, cruel flames dancing all around him threatened to engulf him. Fora moment, he stared into the fire, watching the houses burn and collapse – everything he knew suddenly disappearing in a dazzling array of flames. Part of his face was shrouded in the darkness, whilst the other half gleamed under the fire's hot, orangey glow. Profound sorrow appeared in his eyes whilst he stood in the middle of the fiery chasm that had once been a village under his rule.

_I am bound to hell… and eternal damnation._

_It will always be this way, for me. The fire..the heat…burning my soul…_

A fierce crimson glow appeared within his eyes as he drifted toward Armster Manor. He floated up the pathway until he arrived before his home's great doors. It was unnecessary for him to enter there, for the doors would have been barricaded on the inside before he even arrived. An indignant smile pressed across his ashen lips whilst he titled his head upward, eyeing the windows of the great hall on the second level. The purple aura surrounding him intensified whilst he focused his powers. In a matter of seconds, his frail body floated higher into the air until he reached one of the hall's massive windowpanes. His swords whirled around him rapidly before he sent them forth and shattered the glass. A resounding crash echoed through the hall as he flew inside, unhindered by the sounds of people screaming as they tried to flee.

Joachim did not even have to focus on any one human in particular. He sent his swords away again, commanding them to hack at whatever moved. Blood quickly spattered the hall's ornate floors and walls as former servants, guests, and knights fell upon the floor. He moved through the chaos like a prince, ignoring the sounds of their screams and cries as whilst extinguishing their lives like candles. There was one person, however, whom he refrained from killing immediately. Not a moment later, he sighted the old man cowering beneath the portrait of his mother. The man was huddled against the painting like a frightened dog, trembling to the point that he hid his face from the creature's prying gaze. He swept toward the old man, laughing at the sight of his fear whilst he held up the priest's head. Blood oozed down his hand and arm, glistening in the moonlight flooding through the hall's massive windowpanes. The light shone upon the creature's ashen face, causing his pale, blue eyes to gleam like knives.

"Oh, my dear Vassal! How kind of you to take care of my manor for me while I fell into darkness!" A wicked smile pressed across his lips when Kyran's silvery eyes peeked at him between his gnarled hands. "I brought you a present!" He ushered to proudly to the bloody head of the priest. "I should have wrapped it, but you know how blood its, it would seep through the paper. What a shame that would have been."

"_Dear God, what are you?_" The old man's voice trembled to the point that he was well beyond the point of fear.

"I am what you see." Joachim ignored the man's fear and disgust while he cocked his head, his eyes narrowing. "I noticed you gave away Lady Armster's things to your cohorts. I know you did not search very hard to find me. Did you think I was the one who killed those people? Do you think I am the one doing these things at this moment? Oh, my dear vassal, you are so very mistaken!"

"W-what are you talking about?" Kyran screamed, his eyes widening even further when the young man huffed, the smirk remaining plastered across his lips. As if he were in the presence of the devil himself, the old man's disgust escalated. "I know not what you mean, fiend! Everyone believed you were dead!"

"No thanks to you, I am dead now, fool!" He hissed. The young man's eyes blazed hotter than the fires of hell as he levitated closer, his movements predatory-like. "You will soon discover God does not exist – only the sight of my joyous face when I snuff out your wretched life like a cockroach! I considered drinking your blood but I imagine it would taste as filthy as you are!" He tossed the priest's head away and watched roll across the floor beside his trembling vassal. Horror encompassed the old man's face while his eyes remained locked on the vampire, unable to look away as Joachim narrowed the gap between them. _Be still! _His mind commanded the swords. _This one is not for you…_ He approached slowly, savoring the sight of the man's fear. Although he was tempted to end it quickly, he paused a moment, his radiant gaze blinking in the shadows when he inquired. "I promise my swords will spare you, though, if you tell me what happened to Catherine. I must know where she is."

"Catherine?" The old man gasped, his hand flying to his chest as if he was about to have a heart attack. For a moment, a flicker of relief appeared within his eyes. Joachim gave the man a convincing smile whilst he waited. Since he commanded his swords to cease whirling around him, Kyran's tension subsided, and his trembling body rose to its feet. The vassal pressed his back against the portrait behind him. "No one has seen her since the night you disappeared."

"_Lies_!" He roared, the sound of his rage making the entire hall tremble. A bright red glow appeared in his eyes, willing to engulf the old man until he heard his insistence.

"I speak the truth! She has not been seen since that night. No one knows what became of her, though villagers continue to disappear! Maurizio thought you had-"

"I would _never_!" Joachim held up a hand, his eyes blazing once more at the implication. Nearly foaming at the mouth, he clenched his bloodied hands and wrung them in despair. Blood trickled down his chin and between his fingers whilst he paced frantically in front of his vassal. "She lives! I could never harm her!" But he knew he could – and would – if he saw her. She would be the same as any other human he slaughtered, or so he feared within himself. The very thought of harming her made him want to stab himself and spatter his own blood across the floor.

However, he reconsidered when his gaze penetrated through the trembling man standing before him, who looked up at him with the purest form of fear as he whispered. "I have kept my word and told you what I know! I am of no further use to you, now!"

The smile returned to Joachim's lips. "Tis' true…" A low, barely audible chuckle vibrated within his throat as he drifted forward and narrowed the gap between them.

Kyran's gray eyes widened at the sight whilst he nearly threw his aging frame against the wall, as if hoping the stone barrier would give way enough for him to escape the cold, merciless look the pale demon cast upon him. "You swore your swords would do me no harm!" His protests were lost in the creature's laughter echoing through the massive hall.

He decided that his vassal's use had finally run its course. Indeed, it had years ago, though now he was ready to send him away from his manor – permanently. With a mocking grin, he grasped the man by the robes in his talon-like grip, pulling him forward as he whispered darkly. "I promised my swords would spare you. That does not mean _I_ will…" The man's face was so close to his that his penetrating eyes had a will of their own to incinerate him. Any of the former gentles existing within the pale blue spheres diminished. He despised the vassal's wrinkled face, gnarled hands, and thin, wretched form. Despite the old man's attempt to obtain grandeur, the elaborate robes he donned proved to be a failure in the eyes of the creature restraining him. Like Maurizio, Kyran had clothed himself in one of his father's finest robes. The long, silver garment gleamed in the pale moonlight. Its neckline and hem were trimmed with white rabbit fur and delicate embroidery. He recognized it, for his father wore those robes the day he married his mother. He remembered the portrait of the cold, proud man hanging in his Solar room, the beautiful garment flowing around his elegant frame like that of an archangel.

A flicker of hatred appeared within his steely gaze the longer he looked at the old man's pathetic face. How he wished it were no more! Unable to restrain himself, his hand grasped onto the front of the man's face. Screams filled the hall whilst he dug his long, blackened fingernails into the man's eye sockets and squeezed. A dull, sickening crack filled his sensitive ears whilst he shouted through the darkness. "You disgrace his name by wearing his wedding robes! Go ahead and scream, for this is only the beginning of what I am going to do to you!" He snarled and gnashed his teeth, his eyes wide and glassy whilst his hand continued to apply slow, deliberate pressure upon the man's face. In a matter of moments, he felt the flesh give way and blood flow whilst his vassal's face cracked like an eggshell in his hand. The old man screamed and flailed his arms, desperately trying to escape the agony. Slowly but surely, the bones gave way, until his vassal's terrified screams died to moans of agony. He clutched the dying man until with one, feral squeeze, shattered his skull in his hand. Pieces of torn flesh slipped between his fingers as red liquid spattered into the air, its tiny droplets sprinkling across the portrait of Lady Armster like rain. Blood dotted the woman's white dress and childlike visage. Her sad, beautiful face, seemed to grieve the inhumanity her son displayed.

Almost in a trance-like state, he allowed the corpse to slip from his hand and fall upon the floor beneath his feet. He panted heavily whilst flicking the blood off his hands. The tainted, disgusting, blood of a man he hated so much he could not consume it. Kyran's face was nothing more than unrecognizable pile of crushed flesh and bone. Blood seeped across his father's once beautiful, silver wedding robes and surrounded the body like a reflective red mirror. He kicked the corpse's mangled head with his boot, dissatisfied with how quickly it took for a man to die. Joachim's lips curled whilst his tongue licked the blood caked upon them. With an enraged yell, he whirled from the body, floating toward the blood-spattered portrait of the woman he never knew. His pale, lifeless eyes scanned his mother's graceful form – her flowing white wedding dress, long blonde hair, and pale blue eyes he had inherited. Like her, he was slender, fair, and delicate. Lady Armster was barely sixteen when she gave birth to him, though her expression indicated a lifetime's worth of grief. Joachim reached out and touched the surface of the portrait. He could feel the brush strokes of the paint, and the artist's desire to depict such an exquisite woman as accurately as possible. His dull eyes scanned the portrait carefully, for he knew it would be the last time he would see it. Armster Manor would be left to ruin, for his family name had died with him. When he was about to look away, engraining the image forever in his memory, he paused and felt his breath hitch. The creature's vigilant gaze sighted the pendant resting upon his mother's chest, fastened by ornate gold chain. A black, glittering stone, hidden in plain sight…

A wail sounded from his throat as he felt the air leave his lungs. _This can't be! _A voice screamed inside his mind whilst he trembled. _No! Surely this can't be! _He covered his hands with his face and backed away. Lady Armster's gentle eyes continued to gaze down at him, unaware of her son's turmoil - or perhaps indifferent to it. A profound part of his soul shattered when he looked at the pendent she wore – its blackness contrasting against her fair, smooth flesh. Unable to endure it any longer, he fled from the portrait like a demon from hell, his robes flaring behind him as he plunged into the darkness. _This can't be! My mother…no! Impossible! Lady Armster…she could have never….! _So many thoughts raced through his mind that he could not focus. His vision began to blacken when he fell against the wall of his manor, his skin paling like snow as he struggled to breathe. The creature's ashen flesh and regal clothing were soaked in blood.

In an effort to rid himself of the thought, his eyes sought the stable. He could barely think about where he was going. Several times, he nearly lost his ability to levitate under the strain encompassing his mind. He covered his face with his hands and dug the blackened nails into his own, lifeless flesh whilst his frail body trembled. _No! My father would have… _Before he could finish the thought, he arrived before the stables and noticed that a heavy padlock secured the doors. _My father…would never…he loved her…loved her…my mother loved him…surely this can't be! My mother…my father…loved each other…? Did my father even know how to love or what it meant? _Time was truly meaningless to Walter. The red-haired devil permeated through every part of his life, even before he had lived it. He could not bear the implication he saw in the portrait. A picture of his mother, he once found comforting, now haunted his thoughts. Everything was clear and muddled simultaneously in that moment, for he realized he never understood the significance of Walter's past. His father's coldness was paramount as long as his son knew him. Perhaps, even when his mother knew him - a maniac, slayer, lord, father, crusader, and warrior. There too many labels to count, yet all were suitable. Joachim winced at the thought, his mind absently picturing the Ebony Stone, and tortured by its new importance. He struggled to avoid succumbing to a fit of hysterics as he delved deeper into the repulsiveness of the revelation, his face a mask of horror and disgust, as his eyes gazed glassily ahead. Deadness seeped within his pale blue spheres that matched his ashen flesh. Within his whirling thoughts, something inside him screamed for peace but found none. Hellfire engulfed the village beyond the manor and burnt his painful memories into ash and cinder. Even though it was untold to him, he knew the nature of his existence. Knew it, hated it, and made him curse the red-haired creature with all his might. Curses fled his lips faster than a thousand arrows while he wrung his hands, his form trembling as if the wind would carry him into the silent, black night. The sky itself was black and starless on the eve of his return, its beauty ruined by the flaming chasm that had once been his village. Everywhere there was nothing except blackness of night and the dull, orangey glow of fire. Smoke wafted into the sky until he found himself surrounded by a thick gray haze.

He had always imagined his mother to be a kind woman. Though her expression was melancholic, he had inherited the gentility that had surrounded her like a halo. Undoubtedly, the red-haired devil recognized it as well. Whatever had transpired in the past left only ruin in the present. Profound loss filled him whilst he paused, remembering his father, and gathering what remained into coherent thoughts.

_I cannot bear to think of this, for it shall destroy what is left of me. I shall forget. The past is nothing but memories drifting through time…_

Without even batting an eyelid, one of his swords flew forth and broke the lock with its razor-sharp tip. The profoundness of his torment briefly subsided when the musty scent of horses filled his nostrils. He wandered between the stalls, watching the equines sight him and prick their ears forward. As he went, the horses began to stir until they thrashed against the walls with their powerful hooves. The sounds were thunderous and shook the entire barn. He heard them kick furiously against the doors, whilst they screamed and whinnied in a desperate attempt to ward the demon away. "Yes, fear me!" he cried, acknowledging the primal basis of their terror. He entered the barn for one reason, and one reason only.

"Cojiro!" his voice broke into a sob at the sight of his horse. The animal's legs were tethered to the walls of the stall by iron shackles. Blazed across the horse's once sloping back were lash markings. The stallion's mane and tail was a tangled mess, and with a near deafening scream the horse's head thrashed up and down, until it arched upon its haunches and attempted to rear into the air. The short length of the chains dragged its hooves back onto the floor. "What have they done to you?" Joachim swept forth toward the stall, but stopped when Cojiro's front hooves pounded against the door. Another loud scream erupted from within the horses' throat that startled the other equines. He extended his hand through the barred window of the stall door. At first, the horse threw its head back and gnashed its glistening ivories at him, its fear making it willing enough to tear him to pieces. The equine strained against the chains, throwing its head back as its ears flattened upon its head. For a moment, he believed his horse would not recognize him, for his skin was deathly white and dead. Yet, the equine's dark, glistening eyes remained locked upon him - studying the demon intently.

The chains rattled with each step it took toward him, until he felt the soft muzzle of the horse brush against the bars of the stall window. He considered pulling away, for the animal's unpredictable behavior made it dangerous. Memories flooded into his mind – of happier days spent in the fields in the sunlight. He felt the equine's tension and fear as much as if it were his own. A horse like Cojiro was a rarity, even in Romania, where some of the finest horses were bred. Ironically, the gypsies scorned by the world produced some of the most beautiful, pure, and strong equines known. Cojiro, however, descended from the east – the foal of a mare given to his father by the Pope. A purebred Arabian, whose spirited nature rivaled his own. A softened snort blew from the stallion's flared nostrils until his hand stroked its velvety muzzle. He looked at the iron shackles binding the animal within the stall. With hardly a nod, he permitted the blood-soaked blades to leave him and break the shackles around the beast's legs.

Once freed, the equine nuzzled him gently, its love for its master making it forget its fear of him. Joachim noticed the fine indents of his horse's ribcage showing through its silver coat. The animal was in worse condition than he anticipated. He blew a soft whistling tune through his lips, beckoning his stallion to follow him out of the barn. The equine obeyed, though its steps were slow and haggard, and it walked with a strange limp. Despite the animal's stress, it managed to hobble outside and stand beside him. He was unsure what to do next. If he released his horse into the woods, it would quickly fall victim to wolves and other predators. The beast had done so much for him when he was human. Although he could end its suffering, a different option seemed more fitting.

With a sigh, he ran his hand across the animal's back, careful to avoid its wounds as he pressed his face against its soft, silky neck. The horse stiffened under his touch but did not pull away. He tenderly stroked the animal's neck as he whispered softly under his breath. "Cojiro… I cannot let you die. Humans have been cruel to you but I never will be. I promise." The horse whickered in response and remained where it stood, never once showing any fear of what he was about to do. He had never turned anyone or anything before. As much as he feared what would happen, he gave in to the thirst and punctured the beast's neck with his fangs. Sweet, warm blood flowed into his mouth and down his throat. Animal blood was far different than he expected. Although it was rich, it did not satisfy him like human blood. It was easy for him to remove his fangs from the horse's flesh once he had taken his fill. Streams of blood trickled down the horse's fine, silver coat and stained it red. For a moment, the equine seemed paralyzed and verged on collapsing. However, when he began to fear he might have fatally wounded the creature, the beast reared and thrashed its hooves against the sky, like Pegasus preparing to take flight. Joachim backed away, awed by the sight, his eyes widening until the horse landed with a resounding thump upon the earth. A feral snort escaped the equine's flared nostrils, before it tossed its head, clicking its incisors as it turned and galloped madly toward the fields. He knew not what he had done, though the creature's transformation had already begun. A sort of cold and unearthly glint had flashed through Cojiro's dark eyes. Undoubtedly, his beloved companion would find him again to serve him in death, as it had loyally served him in life.

_I shall summon you again, eventually, Cojiro. I have not found the monster, even after covering the streets of this village with blood. I pray Catherine is unharmed by it, for I know not the nature of the creature these humans fear, nor if it even exists at all. Walter did not return to Creightel so I must doubt the validity of its existence. _

_Where are you, Catherine? Are you praying to God for my safe return? Where did you disappear to the night Walter marked my neck with his kiss? If you saw me, I know you would not run…for you love me…even though I do not love myself. I am so…alone…without you…._

He encountered one of the only buildings his fires had not burned, the last place he knew Catherine frequented. The cathedral loomed before him, and with a renewed bout of rage he arched his frame back as the earth surrounding the entire building formed a jagged crack. The smoke intensified into a thick blanket that covered everything in a veil of gray. The glass shattered from the heat of the flames, and in its wake left a strange alluring figure present behind what remained of the glass around the edges of the window frame. Joachim blinked several times at what he saw and was unable to hold back a gasp when he caught the faintest glimpse of long, ebony hair. The second he drifted toward it, the figure vanished within the burning building. "Catherine?" His voice choked under the smoke and his eyes began to sting from the heat.

The building was close to collapsing under the devouring flames. Without a moment to waste, he flew toward the burning cathedral and levitated higher to reach the window. His eyes widened when a burst of smoke flew into his face. In spite of the danger, he dove through the window and floated between the pews. The heat and smoke were so intense his skin began to sear. Without warning, one of the support beams in the ceiling gave way and tumbled down, its heavy wooden frame threatening to crush him beneath it. He managed to dart out of the way and rolled, barely missing the beam when it landed upon the floor with a devastating thump. Pieces of stonework collapsed from the ceiling above. Bursts of smoke filtered through and veiled the night sky beyond. The church had become a burning chasm of hell that sought to imprison the pale occupant within its trembling walls. His eyes fought to see through the blinding smoke, whilst his chest wheezed as he struggled to breathe. The fire was spreading far more quickly than he anticipated. The flames began to climb across the ceiling near the alter. Yet, when he caught sight of a familiar, amethyst dress, he forgot about the danger surrounding him.

"Catherine!" His voice was lost in the suffocating heat. Perspiration covered his cold, white flesh when he flew toward a shadow appearing within the smoke. To his dismay, the figure was gone. A loud, threatening groan from the cathedral warned him that the last of its stronghold was about to give way. There was no time left for him to continue the search. He focused his thoughts, increasing the aura around his body until he flew through the hole in the ceiling.

The cool night air greeted him when he landed upon the ground in front of the burning building. Not a moment later, the cathedral's stone structure gave way, and it collapsed into a heap of smoldering flames. Unable to look at the destruction anymore, he turned to leave – but saw something that made him fall completely still. A figure stood in front of him, cloaked in the darkness of the night. The young man's pale optics abruptly widened, for he recognized whom it was. A pair of dull, green eyes locked upon him whilst she approached, her face a mask of both relief and horror. Within the shadows, the woman's pale skin contrasted starkly against her long, ebony hair. As if far away, her soft voice called his name whilst she fell to her knees upon the ground. Her heart wrenching sobs broke their silence. "Is that you, Joachim?"

At first, he could say nothing, for his will to speak was overwrought by shame. He covered his face with his hands and shrunk away from her as a terrible feeling seeped within his tainted soul. Barely able to control himself, his voice choked out her name.

"Catherine?" He could not believe he had found her at last. He sought to embrace her but stopped, for his body, face, and hands were covered in blood. Without looking at her, he rasped desperately. "This was all my doing! Stay away from me! I don't want to hurt you!"

"Nothing can hurt me anymore."

Never before had he heard such grief and pain from her. It was as if some unseen force drained all the joy inside her away. Although he was not fully conscious of it, he sensed something was deeply wrong. Catherine's beautiful form crumpled over the ground. Locks of her thick, ringlets, spilled down her back and in front of her face. Despite his fear, the sight of her pain and grief drew him closer. The pale angel of death took her into his arms, unwilling to allow her to suffer. Yet, when he felt her hands wrap around his back, there was not the slightest warmth from her touch. The woman's face rested against his armored chest, spilling hot, wet tears across its metallic surface. He sensed it then. A voice inside him screamed out his denial until he caught sight of her bloodstained dress. A bitter sob escaped his throat as he tilted his head toward the smoke-covered stars and released a loud, broken wail into the night. He clutched her closer as his finely tipped ears listened for her heartbeat. Silence. "_No, Catherine_!" His entire body trembled, threatening to break apart as he held her close, as if his love could restore their shattered souls. Desperate, unyielding love, that he felt for her since the day they met. Everything was for naught. Though they reunited, the scent of the blood he spilt lured her to him. "_No! Not you! Oh God, why did you let her fall? Why does everything I love have to die!_"

"Joachim!" he heard her voice cry out whilst she lifted her head. He stared at her pale, lifeless face. Though it was Catherine's, he barely recognized who she was. The fear within her made her eyes grow wide and her ashen lips tremble when she breathed. "Do not cry…please…everything will be all right. Stay here with me, just a little longer…so we can forget about our pain while we are together."

"_No! I cannot forget!_" He sobbed, unable to prevent himself from releasing the grief locked inside his heart as he gazed at her lovely, pale face, and pulled her to his chest. The woman's long, amethyst dress floated around him as he held her in his arms, unwilling to let her go. "Seeing you reminds me that what I want most in this world can never be mine! You must not be damned as I am! I would go to hell to save your soul from this fate!"

"Tis' too late…" she whispered weakly. He felt her fingers slip between his own. The coldness of her touch sent shivers through his body. He caught the scent of blood upon her breath when she spoke. The bright, cheerful glimmer in her eyes was consumed by the horror of discovering that his fate was no different than her own. "I have always been yours, even though I have been lost for so long, now. I weep to see you this way, Joachim. I am certain God does as well. The darkness in my soul is consuming me. I can feel it growing stronger each night and I fear it…"

"I am here with you, and I will allow no one to harm you. Catherine, you are the reason why the light inside me did not die." He buried his face in her hair, catching her sweet scent whilst he lifted her up. If there were any people left alive, he was certain they would try to kill them both. Joachim searched the streets for cover until he arrived at her house, which was the only building left standing amidst the ruined village. With the swiftness of a bird, he flew up the steps to her bedroom. There was nowhere they could be free of death and hardship. He had never entered Catherine's room until that night. It was barely half the size of his own room in his manor. The walls and carpet were bare. There was no furniture within it, except for a small wooden nightstand beside the door. Located next to the bedroom's large, single window, was a modest bed. A vase filled with wilted violets was set on the windowsill. Joachim laid Catherine down upon the bed and spooned next to her. He felt her hands take his and pull them in front of her whilst he lay beside her, keeping her close. There was no moon that night. Black, smoky clouds of death veiled the purity of its light.

As they lay holding each other, she whispered sadly. "Forgive me, Joachim…every night I am starting to forget who I am. People hunt me in the dark, seeking out the creature that took the lives of those they loved." A pained sob escaped her throat and she paused to compose herself. However, tears began to stream down her ashen cheeks as she confessed. "I…killed my own father…" Her thin, petite form, shuddered with a will that could have made her fall apart. "I doubted you when you said not to trust…him."

"It doesn't matter now." He whispered, for he knew it was too late. No matter how much his heart ached, what happened to her – to them both – could not be undone. With a trembling sigh, he fought back the tears in his eyes whilst he added softly. "I am the one who needs forgiveness, Catherine. I thought I could protect you…but I failed." Joachim's hand reached out and stroked her hair, unable to speak, for no words could ease her suffering. The fateful night he was tainted meant the end of innocence. He had not imagined that Catherine would meet the same, terrible fate. Hell was not good enough for Walter. If a place worse than hell existed, he would eagerly cast his lord there and delight in his torment.

_Now I know the truth. You tainted the only woman I loved. For that, I will never forgive you! Never, ever, will I forgive you for the crime you committed upon her soul and my own. You have damned us all! _

Nevertheless, a ray of hope shone through the blackness encompassing his heart and soul. "It was no fault of your own!" He sighed, restraining the sobs beginning to build inside him from the fact he could not ease her sorrow. "I know the deadly hunger, for I too, have fallen to it. Come with me; we will get away from here-"

"No." She breathed. Her hold tightened around and her voice strained. "I would sooner die than witness the suffering of your soul. In time, I will not love you anymore….because I will no longer know you…"

The idea of losing him to the curse was more than she could bear. He, too, knew the thirst for blood was all-consuming. His pale eyes scanned the scar on her neck – the evidence of Walter's crime. Like her, he could feel something inside him slowly but surely fading away. Joachim gently wiped away her tears."You know me now, and that is all that matters." He pressed his cheek against hers. Even though her skin was cold, he did not love her any less. He could feel her pain when he touched her as much as if it were his own. The window next to the bed faced the eastern sky. He was content to remain with her, for he had expended his will to live. Now that he knew Walter's crime, he could never return to Eternal Night. Indeed, he hoped he would not look upon the demon's face ever again. "I will stay with you." He choked, unable to restrain his tears as he mourned their ill fate. "Perhaps, the next life will be kinder to us than this one."

"This life was kind." She whispered as her voice choked back her sobs. He saw tears filling her emerald eyes whilst a soft, sad smile spread across her lips. "Because I met you, and for that, I am grateful. Death is not a shadow, Joachim, but the light…that will take us both into heaven."

"I doubt I shall go there." His voice became monotone at the thought. He had done too many terrible things in his life. He imagined that when his spirit ascended, he would find heaven's gates locked and angels ready to cast his wretched soul away. Down, deep, into the pits of hell, where he belonged. The young man closed his eyes. _Let it happen_, _for I am unworthy…_

"That is untrue!" She cried and sat up, her dark eyes glittering in the firelight glowing ominously beyond the windowpane. Even though hell surrounded them, she was unwilling to let him fall. "I will see you and our daughter…in heaven."

A soft, gentle smile played across his wan lips. The young man's pale eyes glistened with hope. Would they still be the same after their spirits left their bodies? It was miraculous that she still tried to retain her humanity in spite of the horror and grief she endured. For the first time since he was tainted, genuine happiness filled every fiber of his being. Joachim watched Catherine turn and face him. Her emerald eyes glittered in the darkened room until her soft, cool lips brushed against his. She wound her arms around his back, kissing him deeply. The blood on their clothing seeped into the sheets and stained the fabric red. In that moment, he was prepared to shed his pain and let it fall away. Catherine's hands untied the bindings on his armor until she freed him of the bloody, steel encasement. With a sigh, he fell back against the pillow, allowing her to slide his bloodstained robes away.

_They would save each other from the darkness._

His fingers slid down her dress, feeling the soft, amethyst fabric until he untied her corset. The woman's pale, white flesh appeared before his eyes, startling him at first. Remembrances of a time they shared before, that he thought would never come again, until that night. Gentle, delicate hands pulled her naked form against his, unwilling to let her go. They rolled, and entangled themselves in the sheets until his lithe frame covered her. Once lost in pain, they found themselves again in each other. Fragile memories…things left undone…and words unspoken. None of it mattered, anymore. He could feel her, and everything she was, without needing to look back at his human self. The childish innocence she possessed was still there. He saw it in her eyes, when she looked up at him, the sadness washed away by his love. Hands that once ripped apart human throats gently kneaded her breasts. His fingers danced across the ashen flesh, admiring its beauty as they tickled the pebble-like protrusions of her nipples. A soft gasp parted through her lips, briefly revealing the sharp points of her fangs. Without hesitating, he kissed her again, refusing to see her as he saw himself. A smile flashed across his lips as they covered her right areola, his tongue dancing across her nipple, whilst he heard her throat release a soft, barely audible moan. His lips took the object into his mouth and tightened around it, suckling upon it gently whilst his left hand cupped the base of her breast, feeling her body tremble under the familiarity of his caressing hand. Joachim licked her tender nipple with his wandering tongue, his motions slow and easeful for fear that she would break under the power of his emotions, which he kept locked away for her alone. Only she knew his body, soul, and heart truly. Her presence rescued him from his nightmare and returned him to the world – and himself.

His hand slid away from her breast, trailing across her delicate torso until arriving upon the dark, wiry hair covering her mound. He felt her shift under his touch, her face a mask of pleasure and relief, for love would heal his broken soul as well as hers. Joachim stroked the curls of hair, his frail fingertips combing through the sensitive hairs before reaching the organ veiled beneath them. A part of him hated the fact that he knew the pleasures of the world, as Mathias said he did. Once lost, innocence could never be regained. Tears welled in his eyes when he felt her body against his own and saw her lips form into a faint smile. He felt the heat of her breath skim across his pallid cheeks, whilst her hands caressed his hair, silently confirming her need for love. His index finger probed her lower region, feeling the warm, slick wetness of her arousal until he found her entrance. For a moment, he hesitated and covered her lips with his own, attempting to find his humanity in the passion of their kiss. Joachim had lost and found himself simultaneously that night. The sweet taste of Catherine's lips reassured him of who he was, since for a long time, he thought he did not know. He was Joachim Armster. Not even Walter's lust - or dare he imagine, _love - _would destroy him.

As their lips locked, her insides accepted the slow, gradual feel of his descending index finger. Her body tensed abruptly, adjusting to his massaging touch and tightening around him. Despite the pleasure he enticed from her body, his motions were careful and precise, for he wanted to draw out her pleasure as long as he was able. Another soon joined his index finger, and whilst her gasps filled his ears, he deepened his descent. Joachim immersed himself in the warmth of her body, which seemed so alive despite the stillness of her heart. He rubbed her insides, feeling her ecstasy build as she writhed beneath him, her chest heaving as her throat fought to speak his name. "Joachim…Joachim…I…need…" Even though she did not finish, he knew she only wished to express her need for him. He increased his force upon her insides, feeling her tighten around his raking fingers as he found her sweet spot.

His lips descended upon hers once again whilst he explored her insides, hearing her voice erupt into a moan while her body buckled beneath him, succumbing to his gentle touch. "I won't leave you," he whispered in her ear, his voice as soft and breathless as a dying wind. "You always believed in me. I never understood…how much you meant to me…until now. I will treasure this moment…for like many things in life…nothing lasts forever…" Upon hearing the love in his words, her eyes widened, torn between happiness and sorrow whilst his rubbing fingers drove her to a climax. Her body convulsed under the rapturous pleasures, her arms tightening around his back, pulling him closer as if to merge their two souls into one. Everything began to wash away and disappear, their emotions converging until nothing was distinguishable except their mutual longing for closeness. Years of innocence, and memories of friendship all led toward an evitable climax of a love unbroken by despair.

His hands combed through the thick locks of her raven hair, brushing back strands that had fallen against her damp, flushed cheeks. Catherine withdrew a deep breath, blinking in the darkness as she rested beneath his slender frame. Two pale bodies, pressed together amidst bloodstained sheets. With a grateful sigh, she returned his kiss and twined her tongue around his, drawing him into her depths. After tasting him, her legs lifted and parted, inviting him into her a second time. The intimacy of the act itself frightened him; for he remembered the sorrow it wrought when he accepted her offering and took it, willingly. He had once been naïve, overwhelmed by curiosity and passion to the point of thoughtlessness. Yet, he remembered that there was no tomorrow for either of them. It was odd that he looked upon tomorrow wistfully, for it was too soon to say good-bye, even though eternity could have been his. Eternity was a lonely shadow following him. It did not comfort him, for it required something too dear to his heart in exchange which he could not relinquish, even for Walter's sake. Walter committed the ultimate betrayal to his heart…and for it, Joachim would leave the red-haired lord to the mercy of darkness and solitude. Walter deserved it most of all. Joachim would wound the demon with his rejection, and destroy Walter's hope when he drew his last breath in the sun's golden light. He embraced Catherine, as well as his own death to escape from bloodlust. The price of eternal life meant the erosion of his memories – and his human self – until nothing remained except an empty shell of a man. Eternity would mark his self-damnation, unless he chose to spit upon Walter's face by rejecting the demon's 'gift' a final time.

A smile crept across the corners of his lips as he lifted himself above Catherine's frame, his face hovering over hers, her emerald eyes absorbing his pale blue. He shuddered with delight upon feeling her hands slide across his groin, her dainty fingertips brushing over the hard, jutting organ between his legs that would unite their two, separate bodies in a rhythmic symphony. Her hands caressed the blood-filled member, lightly touching the slick wet head as he swiveled his hips forward and brought it near her opening. Her hands lifted away as she wrapped her arms around his back, cocooning him against her. He listened to her breath hitch in that instant, awaiting the inevitable convergence to follow. Pain soon transformed into pleasure, and loneliness into bliss. He tossed his head back, and felt his smooth, ivory hair fall against his shoulders as he slid himself inside her. Joachim felt the tender flesh of her opening give way, accommodating the stiff, protruding member as it descended. His body tensed, his muscles straining as he felt her tighten in discomfort until the bulbous head was embedded fully inside. A thousand lightning bolts of pleasure struck through his entire being, making his ligaments tremble, and his initial descent slow and easeful.

Her nails dug lightly into his back as he began to move, rolling his hips forward in a gentle, rocking rhythm. The sky beyond the window was lightening to welcome the dawn. Yet, he remained calm, as though the hands of time had suddenly stopped during their union. He felt her buck beneath him and lift her hips, allowing him to move even further inside her depths. Moans of pleasure escaped Catherine's throat, matched by his own as he began to thrust. She moved with him, synchronizing her body to his gentle rhythm until he gained the momentum he desired. Joachim lifted himself up, continuing to thrust, while he restrained the urge to come. The pain and pleasure of their union converged within his soul. Cries of pleasure, sorrow, pain, and love filled his throat while his ashen skin glistened. He saw her looking up at him, a smile pressed across her lips while he made her his. He pressed himself against her until he was nearly sitting upright, his hips rolling forward and back, his mind barely conscious of his movements. His pace quickened as he released a moan, encouraging her to follow when he smothered her briefly with a kiss. Her body moved with his rhythm, accepting his pace flawlessly, at last fulfilling his aching desire to feel her – and everything she was – completely. As he thrust himself inside her, his thoughts fleetingly wandered to his lord, pleased by the fact that he had defied Walter in the most intimate way he knew. Joachim called her name repeatedly as though lost in a fog, reassured only by the sound of her voice speaking his in return. Yet, he heard her speak something else, a reply to the bittersweet lament of his heart.

"_Love lasts forever, Joachim._"

Although his mind wished to make it last, his thrusting organ drew him to a climax. With a final broken cry, he ejaculated, and emptied himself into her until exhaustion overtook his heaving frame. The youth withdrew and watched the milky white fluid slide down the inside of her thighs, flinching at the sight of it as she smiled and pulled him down next to her. Joachim gazed into Catherine's tired, emerald eyes, knowing it would be the last time he would see her face. Whilst they lay next to her, he felt his eyelids grow heavy, desiring sleep from which he would never awaken. A gentle sigh parted through his lips when he nestled closer to her, securing her in his embrace until sleep drew his thoughts to a close.

"Catherine…_"_

* * *

Yet, in his haze of contentment, he did not sense the figure looming over the bed. Coils of blood red hair brushed lightly across its ashen visage. The figure's dark gaze fell upon the two naked forms sleeping soundly amidst the tangled sheets. Two fallen angels waiting for God to reclaim them – unaware that heaven was still far away. Glowing red eyes flashed within the darkened room, whilst the tall, armored creature approached the bed…

…Only one would be saved…

**End of Part II **


	26. Chapter 26: Sacrifice

**Author's Note: **This chapter is really long but I wrote it as an **alternate ending **to chapter 25, after Joachim arrives at the Cathedral. This version is very different from the original ending but it is a **_possible alternate ending _**as well. I wrote this after wondering what would have happened if Catherine remained human and met Joachim. Though, admittedly, this version is much more violent and tragic than the other one. I hope you like it, if you can get past the fact Chapter 26/the alternate ending is the longest chapter by far.

This chapter is dedicated to **lateniteslacker**. Thank you for editing it and inspiring me to write this! :D

Special Thanks

As always, thank you for reading my story and I hope you will review! I am curious to know which "ending" people like better.

Thank you: **lateniteslacker**, **RaharMoonfire**, **AzariyaBelmont**, **haruharu**, & **Andinah**.

Oh, and to answer your question haruharu, a LeonXJoachim story is in the works. ;) I can't guarantee when its release date will be. Due to university classes, I haven't had as much time to write as I would like. Though, I plan to release chapter I sometime in the near future (in about a month or two).

**Chapter XXVI**

Moonlight shone through the stained glass, casting pale beams across the empty wooden pews. Incense hung in the air like a fog. Its alluring scent made the pale young man hesitate in the doorway. Joachim scanned the interior of the building, his lips pursing when sudden twinges of loneliness and shame flooded through him. Like a shadow, his lithe figure glided silently between the pews, the tails of his indigo robes fluttering behind him as he went. He swept aside the bloodstained strands of his pearly white hair, drawing a breath as the crimson liquid spilled down his cheeks and smeared the pallid flesh red. Despite the storm encompassing his thoughts, the creature sought refuge within the cathedral. A part of him waited for stone statues of apostles and angels to rebuke him and cast him back into the fires. Their cold, lifeless eyes gazed upon him as he wandered down the aisle, lured by the strange scents drifting through the building's vaulted sanctuary.

Moonlight spilled across his wan visage as if the purity of its light sought to redeem the wretched creature. A grimace swept across his face as he drifted along, his eyes welling with tears that he could not shed for himself. Even if he prayed for salvation God would not listen to him. One of his hands clenched into a fist and squeezed so tightly that his nails punctured through his palm. Blood trickled from the open wounds and dripped upon the marble floor. Yet, his expression remained unchanged. Despair filled him to the point that the labor of carrying it with him was overwhelming. Thoughts began to surface amidst his growing antipathy toward humanity. _If you are merciful, God, you will let me die. No one missed me…no one searched for me. There is nothing left for me to live for, now-_

Yet, he could barely believe he had thought such a thing when he noticed a familiar figure kneeling before a large cross adorning the back of the altar. Ebony ringlets splayed across her sloping shoulder blades and veiled her face. With a short gasp, the woman turned, her large, emerald eyes falling upon him as if his presence was imaginary. The moment he looked upon her gentle face, tears fled from his eyes and mixed with the blood caking his cheeks. Before she could speak, he drew back and turned away from her, unable to endure the intensity of her sparkling eyes. Beautiful, kind eyes, which reminded him of a past he thought was lost. Without realizing it, he tried to dart to the cathedral's great doors until the sound of her voice called him back. "Wait!" She cried out, her voice straining as she extended her hand, unwilling to watch him leave. "_Joachim_…!"

The sound of her voice made him stop in place, immobilized by her warmth and concern. As if meeting her for the first time in a thousand years, he turned to face her, his entire form trembling whilst his lifeless hands hid his face from the purity of her gaze. After drawing a shuddering breath, his lips trembled alongside the barely audible sound of his voice, which drifted through the air like a dying wind. "Catherine..." Despite his astonishment and relief, something within him verged on collapsing the longer she looked at him. He felt her emerald eyes searching him, their glittering pools laden with both grief and joy. However, she did not approach him. The aura surrounding his pale figure betrayed his human guise.

"What happened to you?" Catherine asked when his hands fell to his side and revealed the ashen visage they had concealed. Moonbeams flooded through the cathedral's stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the floor, which contrasted against the dark look that appeared within the young man's icy eyes. Catherine's tear-filled gaze tried to drown his hatred and anger with joy. "I prayed everyday for your safe return! You look pale, Joachim…so very…pale."

As though she were in the presence of death itself, her once hopeful eyes became suddenly downcast. Her hand flew to her mouth in an attempt to stifle the sobs escaping her throat as he looked away in shame, his voice sounding oddly faint, as though it were not his own. "Don't look at me, for I am unworthy of you, now. I wanted to see you before I no longer remember myself. You know I can't stay." For a long time she did not speak. The woman's bright, emerald eyes merely looked at his pale, lifeless figure. Blood covered his regal clothes and armor, the scent of it mingling with the incense. A heavy sigh parted through his bloodied lips as he wrung his hands. "I should not have come here!" With an anguished sob, he turned from her once again, for he could not stand the sight of her grief-filled expression. Even though he should have left, he lingered long enough to add sorrowfully. "I missed you, Catherine. You must despise the one who brought nothing except ruin upon this village. The blood covering my hands marks the damnation of my soul."

"No!" She cried out, refusing to allow him to drive himself further into despair. Without giving him the chance to continue, she flew toward him with the swiftness of a bird, her long, amethyst dress flowing around her as she ran. She flung her arms around his waist and pulled him toward her, refusing to let go as the soft, quavering sound of her plea sought to heal his injured soul. "I will not let you condemn yourself, Joachim. Why is it so difficult for you to accept my feelings? I have known you too long to let you go."

"I am _dead_…it's too late…" He attempted to pry her away, even though it made her cling to him harder still. The warmth of her touch sent shudders of pain and relief through his body. The woman's determination tore into his heart, for if he left her, he would bring her even greater pain. "You don't understand what I am," he breathed while kissing her raven locks with his sallow lips, unable to look at her as he buried his face in her hair. The warmth of her embrace and her love sustained him. Nevertheless, he could not grant her the familiarity of his kiss upon her lips, for his own were cold and devoid of life. He felt her petite form wince under the icy touch of his hands as he caressed her cheeks. "I want you to remember me as I was. When you visited me that fateful night and showed me how to love…I was human. We are not of the same world, now."

Catherine shook her head, her voice rising alongside the fear and sorrow reflecting within her gaze. "I don't believe you! You are not dead-"

"Look at me!" Impatience and desperation threatened to break him at last. With a feral snarl, he fought his way free and drifted back. The woman's eyes widened, staring at the sight of his slender frame levitating above the floor. The creature's hair floated around his pallid face, emphasizing the white coloration of his skin. Joachim bit his lower lip and winced upon hearing Catherine gasp the moment she caught sight of the blood covering him. The red liquid stained his robes and armor and reflected ominously off the metallic steel encasement. The sound of her fear prompted him to lift his hand. He pointed his claw-like index finger at her while his steely glare sought to drive her back. "Look at me and tell me what you see! Do you see a man standing before you, or an undead thing covered in human blood? The person you knew – Joachim Armster – is dead. I wish you did not see me this way."

The woman lifted her head, the coils of her glossy, black ringlets cascading haphazardly across her shoulders. A deep, overwhelming sigh parted through her trembling lips when her shining green eyes locked with his. "I see only a frightened young man, covered in blood, asking God why you must suffer so! If you were truly inhuman, you would not have come here in the first place. Even if God does not answer, I am here…for you. Don't abandon me as you have abandoned yourself!" Tears streamed down her lovely face and dripped off her chin. In an effort to regain her composure, she wiped the droplets away and stepped forward, undaunted by the strange purple aura surrounding his body.

"What difference does it make?" Joachim snapped, burning her with the fire in his eyes. In an effort to convince her, his sallow lips parted to reveal the sharp, gleaming incisors. Upon sighting them, a startled scream broke from her throat until her hand flew to cover her mouth. The woman fell silence as he continued darkly. "You live in a world of fantasies. Not all stories are meant to end happily, Catherine."

"_Who did this to you_?" To his surprise, she stepped toward him once again. The skirt of her long, flowing dress trailed behind her across the floor. He felt her eyes scan him carefully, though her pensive expression seemed to indicate she already knew the answer. Anger filled her voice, which echoed through the sanctuary like an angel's lament. "No! No, no…it could not have been…_Lord Bernhard_?" When his silence confirmed the terrible truth, she shook her head, attempting to fight against his despair. "We determine our own endings!" She shouted, almost with a will to make the entire structure of the cathedral crumble under the force of her anger and pain. Yet again, she flew toward him and cupped his face with her hands, willingly embracing the dead, ashen flesh. "I would rather believe in fantasies than accept your view of reality, Joachim! I am not a character from one of your books that you can read on a whim! I would never think you could be devoid of _all_ love and humanity."

"What of the people I butchered?" He countered, his lips releasing the words in a snake-like hiss. "Are you so certain I am not inhuman? I hate them all, and more so, myself! If you love me, you will kill me…for only then…"

"How could you ask me to take your life?" Catherine accused, her eyes burning against his in fury. Shame abruptly extinguished the fire in his eyes as he listened to her continue, her voice straining against her sorrow. "What would killing you accomplish? Even though you are…different...your heart is unchanged."

"But yours is?" Joachim breathed, barely able to sustain himself as he looked at her lovely face. The woman's soft, graceful features entrenched him completely. Despite her insistences, his own self-doubt made him unwilling to accept the truth in her words. How could a creature of her caliber love him? He noticed her wince from his observation, her eyes dulling somewhat when she caught the scent of blood upon him. Countless people fell to the merciless blades floating behind him until their metallic edges were covered with blood and flesh. A gentle sigh parted though her lips when she embraced his brokenness. He felt her warm, tender hands pull him close to her chest until his sensitive ears caught the rapid drum of her heartbeat.

Though rage continued to pulse through his withered veins, her very touch dulled his pain and fear. "Your anger is understandable but you must control it. Every day I had to endure listening to them condemn you as a monster. Don't confirm their judgments by becoming one."

"Is it not the truth?" His pale eyes widened further when she shook her head. Grief filled him at the thought of her suffering. He could not imagine what it was like for her during his absence. The young man noticed her face paled when he added deliberately. "They must have spoken ill of you, as well. I am undeserving of your devotion. I have done many terrible things…and betrayed you…"

"The curse was wrought upon you by Lord Bernhard. God shall judge Walter for his crime."

Joachim fell into an uneasy silence. His betrayal ran deeper than words alone could explain, or than Catherine might have expected. Yet, he refrained from speaking further on the matter since he could not bear the thought of wounding her. Pain etched across the woman's delicate, beautiful face while she held the pale young man close. Joachim could feel the blood rushing through her veins, the red liquid veiled by her smooth, soft skin. "God shall not judge Walter," he whispered. "Because he lives forever. I will also live for eternity in this state. Unchanging and undead, whilst you live, love, and grow old…without me."

He pictured it in his mind before she could grace him with a reply. Though he would always find beauty in her, time would pass, and God would draw her soul closer to Him. Whereas Catherine was bound to God's decree of limited life, he was not. The cruel hand of time had frozen him in a state of eternal youth. Joachim imagined himself standing by her side, watching years begin to take their toll upon her until he stood alone over two lonely graves upon a hill. Tears swam in his eyes and he shuddered as though a cold wind swept across his face. In his mind's-eye, he saw himself kneeling beside a grave, his robes sweeping around him in the night wind whilst his head lowered, grieving the passage of time and wishing to reclaim it. Time would carry her away from him like the tide until the memory of her existence washed away from his thoughts.

Catherine released a sigh and gave a weak smile. He watched her lips curve, the delicate contours of her face lightening in spite of his ill-omened observation. She took his hand and pressed it to her lips, undaunted by the uncertainty that defined the nature of human existence. The woman's other hand combed through the locks of his pearly white hair, which took on a satin-like texture in the pale moonlight enveloping them. "I only wish for you to stop this madness and realize I am here for you."

Though he did not return her smile, deep inside himself, he wanted her to save him. During all the long dark nights with Walter he longed for Catherine's presence. She had suffered so much for his sake that he could not fathom why she still believed in his humanity. Yet, he knew the reason, in spite of feigning ignorance. "I murdered people." He murmured the word_ murder_, for it had acquired a poison-like connotation when he considered the brutality of his darker self. He feared touching her, as though she were a precious ornament he could shatter instantly. "Now that you know what I am, you must understand I am dangerous. Tonight I tasted human blood. I tried to resist, but I failed…and will seek it out until more lives are lost."

"If you surrender to your bloodlust, you will only make it stronger." Catherine blinked at him in the pale light, her eyes lingering upon the bloodstained fangs protruding between his lips. Very gently, she cleaned the blood away from his face with her hand. "Do not harm humans. Protect them, for they are weaker in mind and body than you are, and ignorant as well. There is a way we can control your thirst."

"Control it? How?" He gave her a skeptical look while lips curled into a frown at the thought. To him, fighting the thirst was like trying to tame a savage beast. Always, the hunger reminded him of his deadly potential. "Catherine, you don't understand…"

The smile upon her face broadened as she held him closer, drawing her face so near to his own that he could feel the warmth of her breath skim across his cheeks. The contrast between them was evident – for his skin was so white that the moonlight shining upon him seemed to absorb him within it completely. Before he could object, he felt her hand touch his face, the gesture drawing him into silence when she spoke. "There are many ways of extracting blood. We will discuss that later."

"No-" He tried to speak but she shook her head, pressing a finger upon her lips.

"The villagers are looking for you! Hide between the pews, now!"

Before he could object, he heard one of the cathedral's great doors groan. Catherine gasped him by the hand and pulled him toward the pews lining the massive sanctuary. A man's voice echoed through the air as she motioned for him to hide from view. Joachim smirked, knowing he could have killed the human who had entered without the slightest thought. Nevertheless, he sent his swords away, commanding them to lay sideways across the floor as he lowered himself between two pews and fell still. Despite concealing himself, he could still see Catherine standing in the aisle across from him. The woman's bright green eyes brightened. "Papa!"

"Catherine!" Joachim heard the man's gruff voice resound as he approached, his boots thumping heavily across the cathedral's stone floor until he appeared. His dark, glinting eyes looked upon his daughter urgently when they embraced. The gesture was short-lived, for he stepped back and grasped her by the shoulders, his voice becoming stern after their brief reunion. "Thank God you are alive! Come, we must go, I have prepared a wagon and horse outside. That pale monster attacking our village seems to have disappeared – for the time being." Despite his urgency, Catherine shook her head. The man lifted an eyebrow from her reply, his voice hardening when she did not move. One of his hands nervously stroked his bearded face. "What on earth are you thinking?" He accused, his hand lifting away from his beard and flailing the air as though he might strike her. Nevertheless, Catherine did not flinch, even when her father's trembling hand came within inches of her cheek. Between gritted enamels the man rasped. "You have not seen what it has done! Bodies lay scattered about the streets like animals and the fire could engulf this cathedral! I saw Sir Dellamaria, Lady Caelan, and Emmaline strewn in pieces across the ground! That _thing_ responsible is a monster! I forbid you to stay here and fall to its butchery-"

"No!" Joachim nearly jumped upon hearing her scream. With the courage of a knight, she backed away and folded her arms across her chest. All at once, the woman's calm green eyes were alight by a strange ferocity he had never witnessed her express before. Yet, her father's surprise was even greater than his own, for her words commanded him into a sullen silence. "Do as you will but I am not leaving. I will stay here and pray for him."

"You can't!" The man's voice quavered as he towered over her, trying to make her see reason even though she had already decided. Although Joachim despised Luciano, he could not help admiring his persistence. _Perhaps, it would have been best…if you keep her from me, after all. Take her away…she will hate you for it…but she will be safe… _However, the harder the man fought against his daughter's will, the more determined Catherine seemed to become. Joachim watched her father grasp her by the wrist, attempting to drag her with him while he protested. "You needn't pray for that pale devil because its soul is already damned! Come away, Catherine! Though it claimed your chastity, I shall not let it claim your life as well! I will kill it, lest it dare harm you-"

"Enough, papa!" She held up her hand, her eyes brimming with tears while she widened the gap between them and wrenched her wrist free. The man looked at her as if she had lost her senses, his dark eyes widening in both rage and astonishment upon hearing her cry out. "You were among those who left him to die! Walter was the one killing people not Joachim! Now, look upon what cruelty has wrought!"

"I have!" The man sneered, his eyes hardening upon her like blackened diamonds. With a huff, he stepped forward again, refusing to concede despite the anguish in her eyes. "Go beyond these doors and see the corpses for yourself. That wretch made you with child! The crimes it has committed are endless-"

"I gave myself to him, willingly! It was no crime!" She shouted as the tears began to fall once again. Nearly trembling in rage, she began to sob, her voice shaking as she fought to form her thoughts into coherent words. "You condemn him like the rest and I will not go with you!"

"That thing is the devil incarnate! You will obey me-"

"I will not!" Her hands balled into fists and she stomped the floor with her foot, as though the gesture was capable of shaking the very foundations of the cathedral. Coils of her thick, raven hair spilled across her shoulders whilst her amethyst dress swept around her when she turned away. Her defiance threatened to snap the man's patience completely. Like a wild beast, the man shook in rage, his eyes burning against her backside with a temptation to carry her off, with or without her consent. However, the woman's bold tone made him remain at a distance, as though he had become one of the many statues lining the interior of the cathedral. Catherine's delicate lips parted, releasing a heavy, grief-filled sigh. Her voice, though unwavering, sounded oddly faint to the vampire hiding nearby. "_Love is not a crime_! The person whom you call a _thing_, is Joachim Armster. I do not condone what he did but I will not condemn him, either. Walter Bernhard is more suitable for the label of 'devil,' though humankind often misunderstands that word. Forgive my disobedience, papa."

"Catherine!" The man pleaded once again. "I beseech you! What if that creature-"

"I trust Joachim." She replied before he could disclose the warning she had prepared herself to hear. Nevertheless, her voice shook when she added, finalizing their argument with her resolute admission. "_I love him_. Go, now. We will meet again another time."

Yet, Joachim sensed in her voice, a dire uncertainty that indicated 'another time' might never come.

"But the other villagers…" Her father insisted one last time, though his voice was flat, for it was clear she would not concede. The man turned toward the door, his posture somewhat resembling a wilted plant in need of water. "If they see _him_, they will kill him…and if…they find the both of you…" But there was no need to complete the statement, for the man knew she was well aware of the possibility. With a heavy sigh, and even heavier steps, he began a slow trek back to the doors, his voice lowering as he made his departure. "Though I curse him, I love you, my daughter. I will wait for you in Brendelham."

To this, she gave no reply, except to lower her head and whisper under her breath. "Farewell, papa."

With a final glance over his shoulder, the man disappeared into the night. The bright, orangey glow of fire flickered in the distance.

Joachim rose from his crouching position between the pews. The young man surveyed her silently, watching her shoulders tense as she turned around to face him and lowered her head. Her thick ringlets spilled against her cheeks, emphasizing the bright glint in her emerald eyes. Catherine was the first to break the silence that followed. "I will not leave you, Joachim."

The faint trace of a smile creased the corners of his lips. With a trembling hand, he reached out to her, his calmness masking the turmoil within him. "I know."

"I chose to stay." She continued, though he was uncertain of whether she was trying to convince herself of it more than him. Without looking back, she swept toward him, accepting his hand. The moment her warm flesh brushed against his pallid, dead hand, Joachim noticed her withhold a shudder. "You are cold and covered in blood. Come with me."

"Catherine…" He began, but the words seemed locked inside his throat. The youth looked at her gently, squeezing her hand as she led him to the back of the cathedral and into the rooms hidden beyond, which were previously occupied by priests and monks. She led him down a narrow passageway to a windowless room with a tiny bed in the corner. The room was sparse, and possessed only a bed, nightstand, and modest fireplace.

With a smile, she paused in the doorway. "You can sleep here. Dawn is coming and you must be exhausted. First, I think you should have a bath, for you will feel much better afterward. I don't like the sight of blood."

"Are you certain you wish to stay?" Joachim looked at her, feeling a lump develop in his throat and a strange ache fill his heart. The woman had already sacrificed too much for his sake. For a moment, his face seemed to pale even further when he pondered their precarious circumstances. As hard as she tried to believe it, things would not be as they were. In an effort to comfort her, he forced the smile upon his lips to broaden whilst his voice lightened. "It has been too long since we last spoke and I have a great deal of teasing to do. You always insist upon taking care of me, when it is I who should be taking care of you. To think, even as a vampire, I cannot survive without you. How…ironic, isn't it?"

She shoved him gently and suppressed a laugh, her emerald eyes brightening from the sight of his smile. Nevertheless, despite his display of affection, he noticed her flinch upon glimpsing at the tips of his fangs. Catherine turned away and hurried down the corridor, speaking her reply as she went. "Your chatter will not distract me from bathing you, Joachim. Wait there." After waiting alone for a short time, she returned to the doorway and led him into the room beside his. A large steel basin was set out on the middle of the stone floor. Catherine grabbed the boiling bucket hanging over the fire in the heath and filled the basin with hot water. Steam wafted through the tiny room, causing droplets of condensation to appear upon his ashen skin. Without waiting for his consent, she untied the leather trusses securing his armor and removed his robes, folding them and setting them aside on the floor. "All right," she began merrily. "You can get into the basin, now. The water should be the perfect temperature for a nice, hot bath."

Joachim felt his cheeks burn a shade of crimson and lowered his head, curtaining his face behind his silky white hair. His naked body shamed him. The ashen curves of his arms and legs, his slender, well-defined neck and shoulder blades were completely devoid of their former color. The network of veins hidden beneath his pasty white skin contained stolen blood. He did not wish for her to see the pale creation symbolizing the struggle between life and death. In death, he had become a pale, Godless predator of humanity. Even his own body was foreign to him. He feared Catherine would look upon him with disgust, as he often did when he glimpsed at his reflection. The fact that his face would remain unchanged marred his ability to find beauty in himself. Nothing about him was beautiful. Beneath his white skin and hair lay indescribable darkness. Like a man fighting for his last breath, so too, was he fighting to save himself from…_himself_. The curse did not care who he was, who he loved, or who he could have been had he lived. Veiled behind the pale spheres of his eyes dwelled the fragments of a broken soul.

From the corner of one eye, he watched her pick up a sponge and rag as he stepped into the steaming basin, murmuring under his breath. "Catherine, must you…stare at me...while I am naked? Don't you find it rather…" But he did not bother finishing his sentence, for the moment he lowered himself into the water, her hands massaged his back. Her touch made his face flush a shade so vibrant that for a moment, when he saw his reflection in the water, he thought he was human again. The woman's hands kneaded the tense muscles in his shoulders, caressing the cold, white flesh as if it were nothing out of the ordinary. Yet, he sensed a tension in her hands whilst she adjusted to his unnatural coldness.

Catherine's light-hearted words almost convinced him she was unbothered by it. "Joachim! Have you forgotten those nights when you were barely able to get out of bed? I remember last year alone, you were bedridden for nearly a fortnight. Who do you think changed your clothes and washed you? Perhaps, it was the elves and the fairies?" She giggled.

The sound of her delight made him chuckle at the absurdity of his reserve. With a playful huff, his hand flicked a few droplets at her face as he whispered. "Not fairies – but an angel…whom I owe my life to. An angel who washes blood and pain away with her love. I did many terrible things…too many…"

In the dim candlelight, the woman's eyes glinted whilst she cupped his face reassuringly, her voice falling quiet. In the thick, haze of steam and water, she seemed almost surreal. He feared that if he blinked even for a second, he would wake up from a dream. Yet, the touch of her warm hand upon his face – and the damp, heaviness in the air from the steam, alerted him to the fact that she was with him at last. "It was the curse…not you." A gentle sigh escaped his lips when she picked up a sponge and began to wash him, lightly scrubbing the blood off his hands and cheeks. In a matter of moments, the red liquid mixed with the water and tinted it red.

"Sometimes," he answered after a brief silence. "I can't tell the difference."

"I can. For when I look at you, I see only my melancholy Joachim. You still wear that familiar, sad expression upon your face. This was no fault of your own."

Despite her comforting words, his body tensed and his hand lifted from the water and fell upon hers, which had been resting upon the edge of the basin. He stroked the skin tenderly, his pale eyes locking into hers while his voice trembled to speak the fears clouding his relief. "Will I be damned for the crimes I committed, Catherine?"

"You will not be," The smile remaining upon her lips proved there was not an ounce of hesitation in her response. "If you are regretful and seek forgiveness, God will forgive you."

"But what about you?" Joachim persisted and continued to look at her lovely face, feeling unworthy of the affection she bestowed upon him so freely…and fearing it. As much as he pined for her to accept his changed state, a growing darkness inside his soul reminded him that he was inhuman. Perhaps, her ability to accept him was not based upon love alone. He had always been pale and sickly as long as she knew him. "Your opinion matters more to me, Catherine, since you believe I can overcome the curse."

"No matter what happens, we will find a way to cope with these circumstances."

"I suppose that means I will find ways to cope with you, as well." He winked and splashed her with a handful of water.

"Oh, Joachim!" Catherine scolded, though she began to laugh, her face warming his soul more than the steam and the water combined. She tussled her hair, which had become damp to the point that it clung against her face and shoulders. "I'd say you haven't changed a bit! Must you always tease me, even now?"

"Must you always pretend you dislike it?" For what felt like the first time since he was turned, laughter broke from his throat whilst he pulled her toward him and grasped the corset of her dress. He almost forgot what it was like to feel joy. Steam wafted around her like a halo, giving her a kind of unearthly grace that made him marvel, as though God himself designed her in His own image like the saints he praised during mass. Though his hand was as cold as ice, she did not shy away from his touch. Joachim's eyes transfixed themselves upon her, his fingers gradually loosening the corset whilst his voice resembled a summer breeze. "I still remember the softness of your lips and the warmth of your smile. Do not ever let me forget."

"I promise I won't."

With a gentle tug, the corset came loose and fell away, revealing her sloping shoulder blades and her graceful figure. For a long moment, his pale eyes absorbed her image as if engraining it into his memory for fear that he would indeed, forget what she looked like. The candlelight caressed her skin, illuminating every aspect of her figure amidst the steam enveloping them both like a fog. His hand trailed up her torso to stroke the modest contours of her left breast, feeling the taut, supple nipple brush across the base of his fingertips. He memorized every contour, the slickness of her warm skin, and the slow, even pulse of her heart within her chest. As if he touched a porcelain doll, he took her hand and helped her into the tub before resting her petite figure upon him in the water. Their legs intertwined, and he sighed from feeling her hands caress his hair, washing the blood caking its white strands away with the water. "I missed you," He breathed in her ear. "I don't know what I would have done without you. The division between life and death is unclear. I feel human again because of you. Perhaps, your presence will help me control my thirst - before it controls me."

"Do not fear," She reassured, her emerald eyes shining hopefully as her face neared his until their lips came within inches of each other. Her thick, black hair drifted in the water. "I will always believe in your humanity. Nothing will convince me otherwise."

They lay in the water for some time before returning to bed. Joachim wrapped his arms around her waist and smothered her lips in a tender kiss. He lifted his hand and caressed her cheek, cherishing the feel of her warm skin against his own. Within moments, she led him toward the tiny bed, her warm, smooth form covering him. Joachim felt one of her hands slide down his torso to his thighs to gently part his legs. "Catherine…" He whispered her name like a prayer. The moment he felt her hand skim across the hardening organ, he flinched unexpectedly. Her damp, wet body was untouchable and full of life, while his was pale and cold. In that instant, he would have looked away, though her glittering green eyes reminded him of who he was. She broke their kiss, her lips trailing down to his neck and across his chest whilst he ran his fingers across her breasts, kneading them gently until she began to stroke his erection. A smile creased the corners of his lips. There was no one in the world he would give himself to more readily than her. It surprised him that his pale and cold appearance did not disgust her in the slightest.

His longing to be close to her overcame his aversion of himself. They were together. After all the hardship, loneliness, and despair she was with him, now. A smile slowly appeared across his lips whilst her hand caressed his lower region, stimulating explosions of pleasure and delight as he wrapped her in his embrace. Once his arousal reached its peak, she positioned herself on top of him and rested her legs next to his hips, sitting upright so their eyes could meet. Her thick, raven hair cascaded across the sloping curves of her shoulders and breasts like silk as he gazed into her bright, green eyes and treasured her with all his heart. Hope existed whenever he looked at her, and sought comfort from her beautiful, kind face. The moment she converged upon him, he remembered not the dark nights he spent in the grand, empty castle of Eternal Night. Instead, he remembered Catherine, and sunlit afternoons in the fields reading their favorite books, or playing games of chess in his manor. Though it seemed long ago, nothing had changed between them. It was easier to despair than to hope.

A gasp fled her lips when the hard, bulbous head of his member parted the narrow passageway. His fingers clung to the sheets whilst his pale eyes widened, feeling the warmth of her insides surround him as she eased him inside and began to move. Everything around him seemed to stop in that moment, with the sole exception of Catherine's body. Her hips swiveled forward and back and eased him into a slow, rocking rhythm. Joachim saw her lips part and draw a sharp breath when he responded and drove his erection deeper inside her, speaking her name. After a few moments, they moved together, his pale, lithe form bucking against her thrusts. Gasps of pleasure fled his gaping mouth whilst she increased the momentum of her thrusts. He wrapped his arms tighter around her until her body covered him completely, enveloping him in her warmth.

More than anything, he wished he was human again…

And in that moment, with her, he was.

* * *

After a time, he awoke upon the bed in the dark, windowless room. Though he could not see outside, it was instinctive for him to sleep during the day. Night was the only safe time for him to wander about. Thus, after a long rest, he sat up and noticed Catherine on the edge of the bed holding a candle in one hand and a cup in the other. "Good evening!" She greeted him with a cheerful smile, her eyes glinting in the candlelight, though part of her face was shadowed in darkness, giving her a mysterious, and almost mystical appearance. "I brought you something to drink. I thought you might need it when you awoke. You appear quite fatigued, Joachim."

"It's nothing." He returned her smile with his own and accepted the wooden cup she offered him. Since his eyes were better adjusted than hers to darkness, it did not take him long to see that a deep, red liquid slosh inside the cup when he brought it close to his face and caught its scent. "What kind of blood is this? It smells…strange. Where are on earth did you get it, Catherine? I assure you, I can find my own food."

She huffed, her lips curving into a slighted frown while she reached for a second wooden cup on the nightstand next to the bed and picked it up. "Try it, Joachim, before you give me that sour look of yours. While you slept, I found a few chickens wandering around the streets."

"You can't be serious?" He gasped, his eyes flitting between her and the cup in his hand. "A gentle creature like you wouldn't harm a fly! I can scarcely see you chasing chickens like a madwoman!" The image of her running around with an axe seemed somehow comic, despite the fact that Catherine returned his remark with a scathing glare.

For a moment, he thought she might rip the cup out of his hand and dump it on his head. Perhaps, when they were children she would have done it to teach him a lesson. However, her once congenial expression faded into a grimace and her voice quavered. "I scarcely see why you find this amusing, Joachim! We must find an alternative to human blood that will sustain you. The blood of a chicken will have to suffice for now. I drained it into the cup for you."

"Very well, I will try it. I hope you will keep your axe at bay if I wretch from the taste." With a smirk, he pressed the cup against his lips and downed the liquid in several quick, hungry gulps. Catherine stiffened upon hearing his response, her eyes widening at the sight of blood streaming freely from the corners of his lips and down his throat in thin, dark red lines. The blood contrasted against his pasty white flesh, its dull sheen gleaming in the candle's faint light until he finished and wiped it away with the back of his sleeve. His face wrinkled, for its foul taste filled his mouth and made him gag. "Disgusting!" He seethed, gripping the cup to the point that he did not even feel it crack under the force he exerted. "At least it made my hunger relent, though next time, be sure to let me drink it before it congeals."

"I will try." Catherine nodded and brought the glass she held to her lips.

"What are you-" For a moment, he stared at her in shock, his pale eyes widening at the sight of the red liquid in her own cup.

Catherine giggled at his surprise, her voice lightening once again. "It's wine, silly! You are not the only one who is thirsty!"

Joachim began to laugh after he realized the foolishness of his assumption. The sound of his laugher filled the darkened room. The candle's glowing light flickered across his ashen visage, casting a thin silhouette behind on the wall behind him. Between his fits of laughter, he exclaimed. "Oh! You are so much purer than I, Catherine! How I admire you for not having to live as I do and drink the blood of beasts. Truly, I am envious. If only Walter could see me now, sitting here drinking chicken's blood! I am certain he would find it quite humorous and bless me with a kiss!"

"Joachim?" Catherine rose slowly from the bed. Her emerald eyes stared at him while she returned the candle and cup to the nightstand. The candle's light radiated around her, flickering when wax pooling around the base of the tiny flame threatened to extinguished it. While giving him a long, hard look, her voice fell oddly quiet. "Lack of blood has made you excitable. Please, calm down and rest a while longer. I will try to get you more blood tomorrow evening. Unfortunately, it was hard to see through the smoke covering the streets, and most of the village's livestock died in the fire."

"Ah, of course." He shook his head and his laughter abruptly dissipated. "I set that fire, you know. I watched them burn and listened to their cries for mercy, and did nothing to save them."

"We need not discuss that." She lowered her head and turned away, avoiding his penetrating stare. "The curse overcame you. It shall not happen again-"

"Because you are here." A smile spread across his pale, cracked lips. He rose from the bed and hovered in front of her, taking her hand. He felt her warm fingers brush against his, whilst he watched her resist the urge to pull away. After hesitating a moment, she allowed him to lead her from the room. "I am glad you stayed." he whispered as if to himself, though loudly enough for her ears to hear. "Thank you for bringing blood to me, for I know you dislike the sight of it. It will take some time for me to adjust. I hope you know I am grateful."

"Of course I do." A weak smile spread across her lips when they entered the moonlit sanctuary. Nighttime had once again returned to the world. Thousands of tiny, twinkling stars decorated the night sky beyond the cathedral's massive windowpanes. Joachim scanned the massive room, feeling as if he would lose himself within the grandeur that calmed and cursed him simultaneously. The gilded cross upon the back wall of the altar stung his eyes and prompted a sneer to wash across his smooth, pale face. "Isn't this place beautiful?" She exclaimed, pausing a moment to admire the same cross he had looked upon with disgust. "Tis' best that we remain here for a while. People are looking for you. When they cease searching, we shall find another place to hide."

"I do not want to hide." A sigh escaped his lips and he looked at the sky beyond, gazing at the white moon looming in the darkness like a lantern. For a moment, he forgot that it was natural for the moon to be white instead of red. The moon's milky light spilled across his face, turning him nearly completely white, and reflecting off his silver-lined armor like a mirror. When she gave no reply, he huffed and glanced at the thin shadow of himself on the floor. Catherine's lips pursed, her eyes blinking at him in the moonlight as his voice drifted through the air. "You accept me so surely others will when they realize I only consume the blood of animals. I would gladly drink the blood of beasts for your sake. There isn't much difference, really…"

Catherine's smile faded. She lowered her head, her face hidden behind the locks of her ebony ringlets. Her voice, somewhat sad, remained gentle. "Even though I accept you, Joachim, that does not mean others will. I don't think it's fair, but humans fear what they do not understand."

Joachim grimaced, and all too suddenly, the beauty of the night became like a curse to him. Anguish ripped through his eyes like fire as he pulled Catherine closer to him, pressing his cheek against hers, desperate to make her warmth drive back the emptiness overwhelming him. It pained him when he detected her shudder, though she attempted to hide it behind the reassuring smile she displayed. A sob filled the silence when he lamented the hardship bestowed upon him by Walter –and the devil –though he knew not which had cursed him first. "Never mind it then," he said. "Do not ever leave me, for I do not know what I would do without you. I…love you, Catherine…"

"Why would I leave you?" She asked, blinking at him in the moonlight, and somewhat taken aback by his resolve. "You always worry that the moment you obtain something, it will be lost. What happened to you at Eternal Night? What did Lord Bernhard do to you, what did he say? You must never return to that place, lest he make you fall further into shadow."

Even though her eyes searched him for answers, he refused to surrender them to her. A coy little smile spread across his lips when he thought of Walter. Longing seeped inside his unwilling heart, as though a part of himself was somehow missing. The red-haired vampire surely missed him the same way Catherine did. Perhaps, Walter was searching for him that very moment, or waiting for his prized companion to return. However, he would not, for the missing piece in his heart belonged to Catherine. He would not let her go this time, no matter what the personal cost. More than he realized, he wanted to be human again. Normalcy, once repulsive, allured him with thoughts of keeping Catherine by his side. Yet, despite his efforts to be human, his coldness forced him to remain in the shadows where Walter had cast him. "I remember once," he mused as they stood together in the abandoned cathedral. "I asked you why you still stayed with me. You told me I knew the answer, and you were right. You will stay with me forever, even if I will not join you in heaven?"

"What do you mean?" She sighed, her eyes lingering upon him with a kind of uncertainty that made her fall completely still. "Why do you think you won't go to heaven, Joachim? Yes, you killed people, but it was because you fell to the power of the curse and regret it. God understands."

"I will live forever." He breathed, his thoughts whirling when the implication of it returned to plague his mind like a swarm of locusts. "You will go to heaven someday without me. What am I to do, then?"

"Remember me and time we shared together. When you were human, you feared dying and leaving me. Has it occurred to you I fear the same thing you once did?" Catherine released his hand and turned away, the moonlight spilling across her face and amethyst dress like milk. A quiet, though audible sob escaped her as she cupped her hands in front of her face and gazed at the cross adorning the wall of the altar. Her voice firmed. "All I ask is that you treasure our time together. Evidently, you cannot."

"No, don't say that! I am grateful for the time we have!"

"Really?" She challenged, her voice becoming firmer, still. "Must you be so selfish, Joachim? Is _one_ lifetime together not enough?"

Silence filled the air. Joachim trembled, his eyes brimming with tears from the thought of wounding her with his despair. Catherine suffered also. Droplets cascaded down his wan cheeks whilst he drifted toward her, taking her hand in his and lifting her into the air. He focused his thoughts, commanding the aura surrounding him to encompass her as well, so that they floated together above the floor, their two forms like ghosts of their former selves. Catherine's eyes widened the moment her feet left the floor and she let out a gasp while he lifted her higher into the air. A smile pressed across his lips until he paused, suspending her with him mid-way between the floor and the cathedral's painted ceiling. The kind, joyous faces of angels looked down upon them, almost taking on a kind of curiosity and amusement. "Don't be afraid." He soothed, his voice echoing off the walls while she clung to him fiercely, unaccustomed to the fact that he could levitate. With a chuckle, he placed his left hand upon her waist and gripped her right hand, steadying her in place while glided through the air, his feet dancing across the nothingness beneath them as though it was second nature. Delight appeared within his pale spheres as he guided her along, encouraging her to move in step with him despite the distance between their feet and the floor. "Do you remember my twentieth birthday, Catherine? I wanted to ask you to dance and never got the chance – as a human, anyway."

"Let us talk only of the present, Joachim." The smile returned to her face, her emerald eyes glittering whilst they danced. The stained glass windows reflected a collage of colors across them as they moved together in the air. Somehow, he had managed to find wonder in what he was as they danced. As a mortal, he often dreamed of dancing and fighting heathens on the battlefield. Days were often wasted watching life pass slowly by as he languished in bed, too ill to move or even speak. Years spent pining for the chance to walk and run without faintness deterring him. All the while, Catherine remained by his side, caring for him during his darkest hours when death threatened to take him from the world. Deep, within the confines of his memory, he remembered lying in bed – hearing the faint sound of her crying when she feared the worst. It occurred to him that as a vampire he was stronger, faster, and uninhibited by illness. Joy filled him at the thought that they could do whatever they liked, for he was well again, and no longer feared death.

The smile upon his lips broadened as he neared her face, catching the scent of lilacs upon her as he kissed her cheek. Delicately, his lips traced her sloping neck, kissing her fervently. He held her tighter, pulling her against him, as he felt her pulse thump beneath the fragile flesh. His lips ravenously licking and tasting the unbroken skin, whilst his breaths became heavy. A low, audible moan filled his throat when he took the vulnerable flesh between his lips and suckled upon it like an infant. He could see the veins beneath the smooth skin. Intricate, connecting passageways containing the luscious, red liquid he longed to sample, if only for a moment.

The muscles in Catherine's neck abruptly tensed as she cried out. "_Joachim_!"

Urgency – combined with the pain and fear in her voice made him draw away. Joachim's eyes became wide and glassy as he fought to acknowledge her plea, driving the demons haunting him back. "I was not going to bite you," he attempted to reassure her, fearing the fact that the temptation was just as powerful to him as love. "You are safe. I want you to remain as you are…_human_."

To this, Catherine did not reply. He felt her suddenly pull away, the calmness upon her face masking the emotions churning within her. After regaining herself, her voice firmed. "You are far stronger than I, and it may be best to refrain from using your powers. For both of us…"

"I understand." Without the slightest objection, he lowered himself toward the floor, taking her with him. Catherine remained tense until her feet touched the floor. The moment he released her, she gazed at him in silence. Joachim held up a hand. His face gleamed like snow in the moonlight whilst he drifted back. "Do you think I am a demon like the rest of those worthless peasants?"

"Joachim-" Catherine attempted to speak but he shook his head, his eyes burning with a fire that not even she could extinguish. For a moment, she looked as if she would flinch when his hand grasped her around the wrist.

His hold was gentle, though tension ran through his fingers while he held onto her, refusing to let go. "Do you think I would hurt you?" He asked, feeling a sob break from his throat and tears fall down his face. The salty liquid stained his cheeks in rivers as his chest wracked violently, as if at any moment his body would crumble into dust from the mere possibility. He pulled her toward him until their faces nearly touched. The woman's breath hitched in her chest. "You are going to abandon me because you think I'm not the same! That isn't true! I may be dead, but I am still the same Joachim you knew!"

Catherine pulled against him, wrenching her wrist free from his grasp with a feral yank. Coils of ringlets splayed around her delicate face as she shook her head, her green eyes glinting dully from the sight of his enragement. Bitterness twisted the young man's face as if all the sadness in the world had poisoned his heart. Despite her sympathetic expression, her voice shook on the edge of losing composure. "It is time for you to return to bed and rest. I will prepare more blood for you tomorrow night. Chicken's blood is not enough to sustain you. That was my fault, and it will not happen again."

Without waiting for him to follow, she turned and headed toward the back of the sanctuary.

It was difficult for him to sleep that night. A dull, throbbing pain filled him as he lay in bed, staring at Catherine's sleeping form. The woman slept in a chair at his bedside, with her face tilted toward him and her eyes lightly closed. Catherine insisted upon him sleeping in the bed since she would not rest for long. Dawn would break within a few hours. He tossed and turned upon the mattress, for it was still night, and sleep would not come easily. Thus, he contented himself with watching her, instead. Joachim observed the steady rise and fall of her chest, her beautiful, soft face and tenderly parted lips. A dull glint appeared within his eyes and flickered out. Relief filled him at the realization that she had not tried to leave him during the night. She remained there, sleeping soundly with her hands resting upon her lap, and the skirt of her amethyst dress flowing across the floor beneath the chair. Without blinking, a coy little grin spread across his lips. He stared at her endlessly as if she was a piece of art sculpted by the world's finest artisan. Her grace, beauty, and stillness made her seem almost doll-like.

From where he lay, he could hear her heart thumping slowly inside her chest. The dull, rhythmic pattern allured his senses, drawing him closer to her until, if he wished, he could have reached out and touched her. He contented himself with watching her, his wolf-like eyes surveying her delicate form while he licked his lips and bitterly cursed himself for frightening her. It was a mistake but victory had been his. He had not harmed her in the slightest. His grinning lips broadened. Catherine alone would salvage what remained of his soul and rescue him from the darkness. They had been together so long nothing would come between them this time…

* * *

After a restless sleep, he awoke in time to see Catherine enter the room carrying a small tray. Three wooden cups were set out on the tray, each containing a dark red liquid. She smiled faintly and set the tray down on the nightstand. Coils of her thick, ebony hair fell around her shoulders and back. "Catherine." He sat up on the bed and glanced at the cups on the tray, his lower lip curling whilst he observed. "More chicken's blood? As if one cup wasn't enough…" A returned smile appeared across his lips the moment her jade eyes locked with his pale blue. "Only joking." He added upon noticing the scowl appearing upon her face.

The woman's fine lips curved downward until she picked up one of the cups and handed it to him, giving him an expectant look. "I brought you three different kinds," she began calmly. "The one I handed you is ox blood. You are going to have to get used to drinking from animals, Joachim. Did you…drink from humans often while you lived in Eternal Night?"

Joachim felt the corners of his lips lift into a grin alongside his reply. "I fed from Walter, mostly."

Catherine's face abruptly paled. With a shaking hand, she brushed her hair away from her face and looked away. The brightness in her eyes faded. "I suppose, he must have forced you to, didn't he?"

Laughter broke from his throat until he tossed his head back, downing the claret colored liquid in a single gulp. Ox blood did not taste much better than the blood of a chicken. The sourness of it, combined with the fact that he had not fed from the source directly, made it almost unsuitable to drink. Briefly, he remembered how free he felt when he hunted and killed by Walter's side. Walter did not care one way or another who died as long as his thirst was satiated. He slammed the empty glass on the tray and grabbed the full one next to it, twiddling the object in his hands. With a dull chuckle, harshness filtered through his softened tone. "Forced me? It was quite the contrary. I had to survive, somehow. It was…convenient to drink from Walter, and I will never forget his taste." The youth's lips parted, revealing his fangs, until he noticed her flinch and closed his mouth.

As if she had seen a ghost, Catherine gasped, her sweet voice trembling when she dared questioning him again. He sensed when she spoke that she had been thinking of it often, for she cleared her throat and forced her head to lift so that their eyes met. The woman's face was so pale that its chalk-like whiteness startled him. Without thinking, Joachim reached out and covered her hand with his own. He could feel her trembling increase the moment he touched her. "I heard stories…about two vampires who committed a terrible massacre upon Dalwood. Women and children were murdered. You were – are - gentle and kind, Joachim. Walter must have forced you to assist him! Perhaps, you didn't know what you were doing?"

Joachim shook his head and drank the contents in the glass – which he quickly discovered was sheep's blood. Like the previous sample, an unpleasant taste filled his mouth and he struggled to swallow it. A sneer appeared upon his face when he noticed her wide eyes glistened with tears. "_What_?" He snarled and tossed the empty cup across the room. The object hit the wall with such force that it splintered apart. Though sadness filled her gaze, the accusing look he returned it with escalated the rage pulsing inside his withered veins. Catherine's hand flew away from his when he could restrain the emotion no longer, he hissed between gritted enamels like an angry python. "You have no right to judge me! That very night, I spared the life of a little girl. I assure you, her blood would have tasted much better than a sheep's!"

"I'm sorry it isn't good enough for you, _Joachim_." She broke their gaze and hurried toward the door, her feet flying across the floor so quickly that the skirt of her dress barely touched it. Disgust ripped across her face as she walked away, holding her head high and refusing to look upon him when he got up and floated behind her, his glowing form shadowing her like a phantom.

All at once, the youth's anger melted into regret. Joachim shook his head violently as he gazed at her backside. The woman's ringlets tossed around her shoulders as she went, ignoring his attempt to draw her back. "Catherine! Where are you going?"

"Away from you." Without looking at him, she continued onward.

Bitterness consumed him whilst he flew passed her and darted in front of the cathedral's massive wooden doors. Upon sighting him, Catherine tossed her head and stomped toward one of the doors, refusing to concede until his levitating form blocked her path. Like an enraged beast, a snarl vibrated within his throat as he pressed his back against the door, eyeing her intently. Amidst his whirling thoughts, his mind commanded the doors to seal themselves shut. "You can't leave!" He cried out, his pale eyes glistening in the shadows enveloping the sanctuary. He pointed a claw-like fingernail at the woman's stunned expression. "You promised you would not abandon me!"

She hesitated, her lips parting a moment until she forced herself to speak. Catherine's voice fell quiet as her wide, emerald eyes gazed upon him with the purest form of dread. "I want to go for a walk, Joachim. Finish the blood I set out for you. I will return in a little while."

"Lies!" He hissed. A bright red glow overtook his once pale blue eyes. With the ferocity of a demon, he pinned himself against the door until the metal lining his armored chest dug into the grain of the wood. "You will remain here with me!"

After hesitating, she walked toward the doors, challenging him to do his worst and – perhaps – half expecting that he would. "Please, step aside and let me pass!"

After a long silence, his head lowered and his slender form drifted slowly away from the doors. In his anger, he could not bear to face himself or her sorrow-ridden face. Yet, to his surprise, she approached and comforted him with her warm embrace. Catherine's lips covered his in a gentle kiss, attempting to calm him with her love. The tension in his body eased when she held him against her chest and stroked his hair. Her glittering green eyes blinked at him in the dark. "I will return," she whispered under her breath. "Do not worry. Rest while I am gone…for you are still excitable and…delirious…"

"I-I apologize," He whispered back, his eyes never leaving her for a moment when she pulled away and turned to leave. Despite distancing herself from him, he saw her glance over her shoulder. The youth's face seemed to pale until it rivaled the color of snow. As if lost in a dark vortex, he shook his head, his voice barely audible when he struggled to translate his regret into words. "Forgive me, Catherine. I should have finished the blood you gave me. I was selfish and I didn't think-"

"Joachim…you must rest. In time, you will regain yourself."

He wrung his hands and turned away, refusing to speak or look at her again until he heard her open the door and close it behind her. Silence followed but he could not find peace in it. Rather, the stillness of his surroundings – the vaulted ceiling, stained glass windows, and empty pews – made him feel exposed and wonder if God was scorning him for being what he was. In an effort to hide from the unseen entity, he returned to the windowless room and downed the last cup of blood. The red liquid spattered across the floor like tiny, red droplets of rain as he heaved it out of his mouth, gasping and shuddering from the horrible taste. He threw the cup against the wall and watched it splinter apart and join the last. _I don't want to be this way…I can't…let her see my weakness. _It occurred to him that every time he drank blood something inside him eroded away. A shadow appeared across his face whilst he pondered his fate. The necessity of drinking blood made it impossible for him to resist it. Yet, whenever he gave in and drank it, darkness shrouded his mind and heart. What would happen if he continued to drink blood? The youth shuddered at the thought of becoming less and less familiar to himself.

Joachim flew from the room and re-entered the deserted sanctuary. Even in the presence of holiness, God would not listen to his prayers. Almost frantically, he drifted up and down the aisle between the pews and clasped his hands together. _She has been gone too long…where is she? I should never have let her leave! _Fear etched across his face whilst he paced like an animal confined within a cage. Holy relics from long ago tormented him when they should have brought him comfort. Everything about the cathedral reminded him that he did not belong. He was inhuman, and no longer bound by the morals and laws of society. Even if he relinquished human blood people would hate him. Nothing he did made any difference. If he wished, he could become a saint, and still humanity would despise him. _I will prove myself worthy of her. I am human…and always will be. My love for her is enough. It will be enough…_

In an effort to rid himself of his torment, Joachim left the cathedral and descended into the darkness of the night. The sky was veiled by clouds and the air was crisp with frost. Snow drifted in flecks from the black clouds above, gathering around his feet and swirling across the road in an almost playful manner. Heaps of snow accumulated around the remnants of houses, now reduced to shambles of charred ash and stone. The youth drifted through the empty, snow-covered streets, listening to the wind's howling lament. Memories of the dead, burnt to bone and cinder, were mourned and buried by the snow. He watched his silvery breath vanish like a puff of smoke into the night sky. Tiny white flakes drifted onto his shoulders and hair whilst he silently looked on. His icy, dead eyes stared into the night and searched for a flash of amethyst to contrast against the whiteness surrounding him. He despised the harshness that characterized winter. The cold made him faint and anxious. Like the ruins of an ancient capital, Creightel belonged to the memoirs of history and time. A frown creased the corners of his wan lips as he struggled against the frigid wind. His body began to tremble – warning him to return to the shelter of the cathedral before Catherine noticed his absence. With a resigned sigh, he licked his lips when a searing pain ripped through his mouth. Curtains of lush, ivory hair cascaded against his cheeks, veiling the pain professed in his eyes behind their glossy strands.

A loud noise shattered the silent night. His eyes darted across the road, sighting a black shape contrasting against the whiteness. The creature's shining, tiny black eyes blinked at him whilst it hopped gingerly across the snow. The youth watched it, feeling his breath become trapped inside his chest. As if a great hand drew his lids back, his eyes widened like saucers as he watched the accursed, black thing beat its wings and settle upon a snow-covered mound. At first, he could not detect what had drawn its attention. The feathery brute fluttered on top of the strange object and released another loud, loathsome cry, though no others of its kind joined its company. Joachim drew back, his eyes wildly fixated upon the creature, torn between horror and grim acknowledgement. He watched the scoundrel's sharp black beak lower and pick at the object hidden beneath the snow. The powerful talons on its feet dragged across it, causing some snow to fall down like sheets of silk, and unveiling a pair of unblinking, frozen eyes accompanying a rotting human face. In that precise moment, he whirled and hurried away, his robes gliding with him as he sought to escape the ghastly bird's hungry gaze.

Footsteps echoed through the darkness. The creature whirled and searched for the source of the sound. The steps were light and quick and alerted him immediately to whom they belonged. Joachim winced upon feeling the pain in his mouth rise. Desperate, he darted toward the cathedral steps. However, he turned upon hearing an unfamiliar voice shout through the darkness. It belonged to a man pursuing her, his eyes alight as he raised the sword in his hand and shouted after her, his rage threatening to render his threats incoherent. "Get back here, filthy gypsy witch! I saw you stealing blood from my cattle tonight; return it to me this instant!"

Catherine continued onward, her steps quickening when she looked over her shoulder at her pursuer. The woman's vivid green eyes widened and she clutched the flask in her hand close to chest. The woman's long, amethyst dress swept with her steps, hiding her feet and giving the strange impression that she was floating. Her steps were so light that she barely left the trace of a footprint behind her. The man doggedly followed, unwilling to relent despite the flicker of annoyance appearing upon her gentle face. Flecks of snow speckled the locks of her raven hair. In her effort to avoid the man, she did not notice the vampire watching her. "What would you do with it if I did?" She breathed. Her soft voice was faint and trembled from the cold. "Your cattle are dying from their burns and I meant no harm. I took only a small amount from each, for I am starving, and food is scarce-"

The man's guff voice shattered her words like a rock through a glass windowpane. Joachim watched him pause in the middle of the road, clutching the sword in his hand whilst he stomped the ground with his worn leather boot. Undoubtedly, the man was one of the few who survived the attack, most likely due to living on rented land nearby. The youth guessed that he was a peasant from his plain and ragged attire. The pale creature eyed her pursuer with his dagger-like eyes, his stance stiffening the moment Catherine slid on a snow drift and fell on her side. The flask shattered against the cold earth, spilling its contents all over her chest and staining it red. As soon as she fell, she scooped the remnants of the blood back into the broken flask amidst her chaser's heated shouts. "I know you're helping that monster, for why else would you steal blood from my livestock? You must be using it in witchcraft - helping that pale devil slaughter us all!"

"He is not a devil!" Fire appeared in her eyes when she staggered to her feet. Catherine's dress was stained with blood. With a valiant cry, she shook her head. "I am trying to protect the survivors! As long as he feeds from animals, harm will not come to you. Let me go to him!"

"How do you know that?" The man retorted, brandishing the sword in front of him. His blade's metallic edge reflected against the white snow. He approached the young woman, his eyes narrowing upon her in blind fury. "That devil butchered nearly everyone and you _dare_ try to help it! Where are you hiding it, gypsy witch? I have witnessed you wander to and from the church. Perhaps, I will cut you down and lure the monster out with your bloody corpse!" The man drew his arm back, readying it to strike, when a pale hand suddenly grasped him by the throat.

Joachim lifted the man up with one arm until his boots dangled over the ground. Neither his captive nor Catherine had seen him approach. His superior speed and strength made it almost effortless for him to overpower the would-be assassin. "Luring me out isn't necessary!" The youth snarled and bared his fangs. The two prominent incisors flashed like knives as he surveyed the man's astonished expression. The man gasped for air though the increased force of the creature's talon-like grip denied it. "I will gladly add you to the pile of corpses I've collected! Considering how many I had to exterminate, I was bound to miss a few!"

"Joachim!" With lightning speed, Catherine grasped him around the wrist and attempted to pry his fingers away from the man's neck. However, like a dog with a pheasant in its mouth, his grip tightened and the sounds of her screams were deaf to him. Laughter broke through his throat as he continued to squeeze, relishing the sight of the man's face reddening as he strangled the air from his lungs. "Joachim, stop!" Catherine's fists pounded desperately against his arm but he refused to release his prey. The main flailed and kicked but the pitiful efforts merely increased the creature's delight. He continued to squeeze until his fingernails ripped through the flesh. A flood of red slowly slid down the man's throat and across Joachim's hand and wrist. The youth drew back his lips, exposing his incisors as his nails cut through the man's throat with brutal precision. A popping noise filled his ears alongside a dull snap. As if he broke a twig, the bones in the man's neck shattered in his hand. Low, gurgling gasps fled the human's gasping mouth.

With the speed of a viper, the pale creature's nails severed completely through the flesh. The human's head lolled back as the blood flowed down the corpse and stained the snow beneath it red. Had the bones and tendons of the neck not remained attached, he would have succeeded in severing the man's head single handedly. Pieces of torn flesh slipped between his fingers, mingling with the blood covering his hand, arm, face, and chest. He had succeeded in mutilating the man's neck almost effortlessly. The realization of how truly easy it was to kill raged through his mind whilst he continued laughing, his eyes glazing with delight from what he had done, like an artist attempting to recreate death before an audience. However, Catherine released her grip upon him and darted back, her face a mask of horror and fear. It was then, amidst the hazy scent of blood that his pale eyes flitted to her. Her chest and face was covered with the man's blood. The very scent of the red nectar filled his nostrils and tantalized him. He dropped the nearly headless corpse on the ground with a resounding thud. Catherine closed her eyes. She fought back a sob when his voice, once soft, rasped heatedly. "Don't be afraid! I killed him for you! He would have hurt you, and I could not allow it. I was too weak to protect you and our unborn child that night, Catherine, but I can protect you now. I apologize for staining your pretty dress!"

"Joachim!" Catherine screamed and turned away, the skirt of her dress flagging behind her when she ran. Her voice, carried by the night wind, filled his ears when she took flight. "I can't look at you! Don't ever touch me again!"

"Where do you think you're going?" He shouted back, gnashing his teeth. "Surely, you are not running away from _me_?" But she would not listen to him. He watched her ascend the steps of the cathedral and dash inside with the swiftness of a rabbit. Nearly blind with rage, he tore after her, his robes sweeping with him as he flew across the blood-covered snow, leaving the bloody remains strewn over the road in his wake. Without caring if she heard him or not, he continued to shout after her. His voice resounded through the darkness like a demon's roar. "Catherine! Please understand that I was only trying to protect you!" He flew up the steps and followed her inside, his pale eyes glinting savagely when they locked upon her. The woman stood at the altar beneath the gilded cross, her back pressed against the wall whilst she stared at him. There was nowhere for her to run. It surprised him that she cornered herself like a mouse trapped in a wooden box.

The woman's stance stiffened as silence passed between them. The levitating creature paced near the base of the altar steps, glaring at her with unblinking scarlet eyes. The vastness of the sanctuary swirled around him like a hurricane. He gazed at the red color staining the amethyst front of her dress, catching the delectable scent as though it were perfume. The fluid trickled down her chest, turning her bare, warm skin brilliant red. He longed to touch her with his cold, sallow hands, and feel the warmth of her blood covered flesh. The creature grinned and licked his lips, feeling the searing, ravenous pain in his mouth drive him to the brink. With an emotionless chuckle, he extended a clawed hand and beckoned her toward him, his hollow voice straining.

"Tis' all right, Catherine. Let me comfort you as you have comforted me. Let me clean the blood off your skin…" If he wanted to, he could have dragged her forward with his powers. Yet, he refrained from doing so for fear that her rejection of him would intensify. Nevertheless, like a predator, his deathly white form slowly drifted up the altar steps. Joachim eyed her intensely when she attempted to move away, her dainty lips parting in horror whilst he added in a low, throaty voice that stunned her with its unfamiliarity. "Come here," He watched the fluid slowly trickle down her corset between the soft, fleshy contours of her breasts. Yearning filled him the longer he looked at her, his radiant spheres transfixed by her grace and fear. The creature's sensitive ears detected the sound of her heart pounding wildly against her ribcage as if, at any moment, it would burst. "Surely, you can find it within your heart to forgive my little transgression! What does one dead human mean, anyway? You are still alive…and I have not hurt you..."

"Joachim!" Catherine pleaded, forcing herself away from the wall toward the altar table. He saw her eyes glance at the contents left upon it before returning quickly to him. "Please, stop! Don't give in to the curse! Do you not care that I still fear for you? The Joachim I knew would never harm anyone!"

"Are you saying I am no longer the same?" Rage seeped into every fiber of his being like wildfire whilst his hands slashed frantically at the air in front of him. Nearly foaming at the mouth, he hissed furiously. "Do you know what it feels like to crave human blood? My love for you is unchanged-"

"This has nothing to do with love! You are losing yourself!"

"This has _everything_ to do with love!" He snarled, his eyes stabbing into her when she shook her head. The woman's face was so pale it rivaled his. He floated closer to her until he came within a few feet of her. Refusing to consent to his attempt at intimidating her, she stood her ground, her emerald eyes staring at him when he added, allowing a malicious smile to appear upon his fine lips. "Don't be ridiculous," he began. "You are the only one who matters to me. Why can't we return to the way we were before? My heart – and body – need you, Catherine. I am human! If you do not believe me I can…_and will_…prove myself."

"No, you are not." Catherine replied. Her breath hitching in her chest for a moment until she forced herself to continue. "I know you are struggling against the darkness. Please…don't hurt me, Joachim. I _will_ save you but you must calm down!"

"I am calm!" His voice fell to a whisper as his eyes glinted at her eerily. "I have no intention of harming you. Soon, you will understand, and everything will be as it was. Even if I have to make you, you _will_ accept me."

The yearning grew in his eyes. In a manner not unlike that of a wolf, he licked his lips and absorbed her scent. He wanted to touch her, to stroke her lovely black hair, and feel her warmth against him as he had before. With a smile, he advanced toward her, his slender form appearing as white as death when he emerged from the shadows. He heard her scream and watched her back up into the altar table, her eyes wide and unblinking. Deep within his blackened soul, he despised the fear reflected in their bright green pools. How he wished she would not fear him! Nothing he did was good enough for her. How could he explain what it was like to be dead to someone who was still alive? He glared at her whilst the thoughts raging through his twisted mind focused upon her. Something inside him broke so quickly that he barely realized it until he lunged upon her, grasping her by the front of her dress while pinning her down on top of the altar table. He snarled at her vengefully, despising her even more when she struggled against him and cried out the sound of his name. Catherine's soft voice became overwhelmed by pain and sorrow. With a kind of fiendish pleasure, he pinned her down beneath him. Her arms thrashed against his backside whilst he lowered his face over her chest, relishing the scent of the blood. His right hand grasped the top of her bloodstained corset and pulled until the fabric gave way and tore down the centre, exposing her bare, smooth flesh and the blood that had trickled beneath her clothing.

A strange cloud surrounded his thoughts as he pressed his lips upon her collarbone. He breathed hard against the warm flesh, his body heavy with want and hunger. He heard her scream but ignored it, for somehow, he felt like he was not in his own body. It was as if he was standing outside himself watching the gruesome scene unfold. Nothing made sense except the searing pain inside his mouth. The creature's eyes feasted themselves upon her slick, blood-soaked chest. With a guttural groan, his tongue voraciously lapped up the thick, sweet blood covering it. He felt her hands push against his chest when his wandering tongue sought her breast. He gazed at the red trickling across the smooth, fleshy contours before cleaning it away with his tongue. The blood of man and beast converged into one. An intermingling of sensations, both grotesque and delightful, filled his mouth and slid down his throat. The creature's pale eyes widened whilst he pressed his hips against hers, feeling himself harden from the euphoria. She could not escape him, now.

He felt her shudder and try to fight free, her struggles increasing in desperation when his lips wound around the blood-covered teat, suckling upon it until the tips of his fangs threatened to puncture through the tender skin. His eyes gleamed like fiery chasms in the darkness – devoid of recognition and compassion. Death was not compassionate. Even love, which seemed virtuous, was the contrary. He longed to show her that he was human. She let him have her once when he was turned. He remembered her body moving on top him, the warmth of her insides, and the heat of her breath against his face. Amidst his rage, his thoughts fleetingly remembered the joy and pleasure he experienced that night. Such a time would never come again. The aching hardness demanded not love but earthly gratification that equaled –and even surpassed – his hunger for blood.

A brutal laugh escaped his throat but it was short-lived. Spots of pain blinded his vision when one of Catherine's flailing hands grasped the basin on the table and flung it directly into his face. His skin seared as he staggered back, roaring in rage, and feeling a foul liquid slide down his cheeks and drip off his chin. He covered his face with his hands when a burning sensation ripped through him like fire. Within the agony encompassing his mind, his ears caught the sound of Catherine's voice cry out. "You are no longer yourself, Joachim! Please stop! Think about what you are doing before it is too late for both of us!"

"You…!" Rage bubbled inside him like a volcano but he could not move, for the fiery pain blinded his vision in darkness. A stream of blood trickled down the side of his head where the basin had hit him. The pain of the blow was nothing compared to its contents. When Father Genesio had tried to subdue him, it was merely a few sprinkles against his skin. Seething, his nails dug into his cheeks and his throat released an agonized scream. Blinded by the pain, he drifted back until he lost his balance in the air and fell down the altar steps. Blood spurted from the wound and pooled around him on the floor as he lay upon his side, his face a mask of rage and agony. He gazed up at Catherine, who stood looking at him, her eyes brimming with tears while he gasped. "_No_…._no_…_no_…I…failed you...Catherine…" Broken, he lay there, whilst his own blood drained from his skull. Catherine gazed down at him wordlessly. What sort of response could she give after what she endured? Shame overwhelmed him - terrible, heart-wrenching shame that he would carry with him forever afterward. The pale creature fought against the agony, his breathless plea leaving his bloodstained lips. "This…can't be! I am…a man…not a monster…"

"I know, Joachim." Catherine's voice was faint. He saw her take a hesitant step toward him and pick up the empty basin off the floor. She grasped the object in her hands, running her fingers along the edge as her head lowered, veiling her soft, gentle face behind coils of her thick, raven hair. The woman's brilliant green eyes looked at him sadly when an uneasy silence overcame them both.

Then, after drawing a haggard breath, he lifted his head and reached out, his blood-covered hand trembling wildly. His blue eyes locked against hers when he rasped, desperation seeping into their pale spheres. "…_Help me_…_please_…" Tears freely fell from his eyes and slid down his cheeks. A shuddering gasp fled his lips and his eyes flashed a shade of scarlet, their glowing forms immobilizing the woman standing over him in fear. Yet, somehow, she recovered long enough to approach. Catherine lifted back the sleeve of her dress and unveiled her wrist, her sorrowful eyes gazing at the smooth flesh in a restrained silence. He watched her approach him, her steps tentative and slow, as though in the presence of a wild, untamable beast. Yet, when he remained unmoving, she swallowed what was left of her nerve and kneeled beside him. He felt her soft, delicate hands brush back the tails of his robes, revealing the dagger secured in the leather hilt attached to his waist. It surprised him that she remembered the weapon he concealed, though he wanted to smile, for she knew his habits almost better than he did.

Catherine withdrew the weapon and held the sharp, glinting blade against her wrist. He gazed at the dagger almost lovingly, relishing the thought of her plunging it into his chest and through his blackened heart. A part of him expected her to do the terrible but necessary deed. The creature's dull, blue eyes flickered a shade of red when the thought of stopping her suddenly conflicted with his will to die. He could see the smooth, supple curves of her neck and chest, her vulnerability and nakedness filling him with a desire to have everything she was completely. He snapped at her with brutish indignation, his incisors gnashing violently at her throat with a will to rip it out.

Had she not darted back at the last second, his fangs would have pierced her jugular with terrifying ease. Yet, her soft words managed to break through his haze, comforting him despite the animalistic passion of his rage. "None of this is your doing," she whispered. "The world condemns you but I will not. The Joachim I loved is still there, somewhere, hidden beneath the emptiness and pain. Animal blood is not enough. Perhaps…my own will be…" Sadness seeped through her eyes, though the profoundness of it veiled a fragile hope. She pressed the edge of the dagger against her skin and with a slow, easeful motion, cut into her wrist. A thin, red line appeared upon the once untouched skin. Blood flowed from the wound. She held it above the empty basin and let it fall until a small red pool gathered inside the base. Once she had given all that she was able, she tore the sleeve of her dress away and hurriedly wrapped the fabric around her injured wrist. "Drink, it is still warm." Her emerald eyes never left him for a moment. "If drinking from me means you will not harm others – or yourself – so be it. Let God judge whether this is right or wrong."

"No…Catherine…I cannot." Dark red fluid seeped through the fabric covering her wounded wrist and trickled down her arm. Yet, he could not turn away from the blood entirely. The dark yearning inside him returned when he caught its heavy, sweet scent. His eyes traced the red contents in the basin, loathingly staring at the warm substance that would damn him and save him simultaneously. Within his heart, he longed for another way to quell the storm of agony ripping through his mouth.

However, when he did not move to drink it, she pressed the rim of the basin insistently against his lips. "You must!" She urged. Her voice began to quaver. "There is no other way, Joachim."

"I will not drink from you!" He tried to push the object away with his hand. However, as his strength began to leave him, the pain grew stronger. "I should leave you…and not return-"

"And what would you do, then?" She asked, her eyes brimming with tears. "Would you harm more people and hunt them in the dark? I do not wish to think what would become of you if you did. I am giving you my blood freely and without regret. At least this way, you will not suffer, and no harm will come to others."

"And what of you?"

"I wounded myself with this dagger - you had no part in it and did not bite me. Even now, if you wished it, you could…"

Silence passed between them once again. As always, she spoke the truth, even though it was painful for him to hear it. If he refused, there was no telling what he would do – whether by his will or not. The searing, aching, relentless desire to taste the blood filtered through his whirling thoughts. In barely a whisper, he looked at her beautiful face and, at last, consented to drink the foul liquid. "I am a slave to blood…" Though he had discovered it long ago, the painful reality of his existence gripped his tender heart like a vice. _And Walter. _He knew better than to speak aloud the final sentiment. Walter had sought to own him and everything he was. Blood was merely an exchange for snatching away his pride and freedom. Like a bird in a gilded cage, there was no escaping his master's lust. He had paid a terrible price for eternal life. Something inside him was slowly eroding away. The longer he tried to resist giving in, the harder it was to distinguish himself as a human being.

Catherine's love prevented the degradation of his conscience. She had bled for him once and he had not forgotten the cost. Vaguely, he thought of the tiny, innocent little face he held in his arms and the chilling grief that had filled his heart. Now, his beloved was prepared to bleed for him a second time – perhaps countless times, in order to rescue him from terrible, unstoppable hunger. Joachim's eyes became glassy and wide with fear. In a matter of moments, the claret colored substance lapped against his lips and slinked down his throat. The thick, warm sweetness filled his mouth and spilled chaotically over his chin and neck. A dull moan vibrated within his throat while he devoured her blood –the symbol of her innocence, sacrifice, and love. He gazed at Catherine's face and noticed her wince. However, whilst he drank, the only thing that mattered was the taste of her blood. The only taste that rivaled her blood was that of Walter. A grin appeared upon his face before he suddenly sat up and pulled her toward him, covering her lips with his own in a grateful kiss.

As soon as he kissed her, she pulled away and scrambled to her feet, her lips curling into a scowl so severe that his breath hitched in his chest. The woman covered her bare front with her arms and huddled against the wall beneath the altar's gilded cross. With a trembling sigh, she wiped the blood away from her lips, her voice strengthened by the injury he inflicted upon her. "I have given you all I can offer. Please leave me alone for a little while, Joachim…"

Joachim cast her a scornful glare and floated upright. Then, without a backward glance, his pale form drifted out of sight.

* * *

The harsh winter storm forced Catherine to remain in the cathedral. Perhaps, it was far longer than she wished, though it mattered little to him as long as he could feed. He remembered the cold, dark nights spent in the little chamber behind the sanctuary. Catherine's smooth arms were slowly marred with numerous swollen cuts. During the daytime, when she thought he was asleep, he remained awake and restless. For her sake, he did not leave the confines of the cathedral. One day, he sensed it was daytime, and found himself drifting through the doorway and down the corridor leading to the massive sanctuary. For the first time since his turning, his eyes fell upon the blinding, golden rays of the sun flooding through the stained-glass windows. The beauty of the light – of daytime, normalcy, and life. His aching heart longed to experience life as a human for just one single day. One day was all he asked for and yet, God and Walter denied him of it! He was forced to remain in the shadows – where he now belonged.

The cruelty of the dark tormented him. The youth was shackled to the night and bound to it. Daytime became his paramour, his escape from the pale, empty glow of moonlight that promised him serenity but granted none. Yet, as if trapped in an invisible cage, he could not walk in the sunlight as Catherine did. He would have to content himself with admiring the golden rays within the safety of the cathedral's windowless corridor. Nearly every day he wandered to the doorway leading into the sun-drenched sanctuary. Catherine was often unaware of his presence, for she spent her afternoons absorbed in books and prayers. Joachim's eyes narrowed whenever he saw her kneeling on the altar steps, her head lowered with her hands clasped in front of her, praying to a God who had cursed him, forgotten him, and damned him to hell. Rage seeped into his steely gaze whilst he heard her recite the Lord's Prayer in her gypsy tongue:

_Miro gulo Devel, savo hal oté ando Cheros,__  
__te avel swuntunos tiro nav;__  
__te avel catari tiro tem;__  
__te keren saro so cames oppo puv,__  
__sar ando Cheros.__  
__Dé man sekhonus miro diveskoe manro,__  
__ta ierta mangue saro so na he plaskerava tuke,__  
__sar me ierstavava wafo manuschengue saro so na plaskerelen mangue.__  
__Ma muk te petrow ando chungalo camoben;__  
__tama lel man abri saro doschdar.__  
__Weika tiro sin o tem,__  
__tiri yi potea,__  
__tiri yi proslava akana ta sekovar_

He wondered if God was listening to her. He thought of how accursed he was in her eyes. Whenever she looked at him, the sadness in her eyes seemed to grow. She rarely smiled, except when he asked her to read to him. However, the only books they could find were Biblical scriptures copied by the cathedral's former priests. Catherine's voice, once calming to him, filled him with loathing when she read the gospels to him by candlelight. One such evening, when they sat together upon the bed reading, he ripped the book from her hands and flung it with the violence of a devil into the blazing hearth. His eyes became a lit with a fire so bright that when he whirled round to face her, his pallid face resembled the cold image of death itself. "I am tired of reading this nonsense!" He fumed, not caring if his words startled her or not. One of his claw-like hands balled into a fist as the hellish flames blazed behind him. He lowered his head, curtaining his face behind his silky white hair, his lips unveiling his fangs. "You have such a devout faith in God, Catherine. I would admire it, were you not so misguided."

"What do you mean?" She asked and darted to her feet, her eyes narrowing upon him as her amethyst dress swept around her delicate figure. "You hurt me with your disrespect, Joachim!"

"Disrespect?" He breathed, forcing a tiny, malicious smile to crease the corners of his lips. "I was unaware that truth is considered disrespect. What are you praying for? You will have to pray louder than in a whisper, for God seems to have difficulty hearing!"

"I was praying for you!" Rage seeped through her emerald eyes like wildfire.

"You best give up," He sneered. A sudden fire raged through his steely gaze. He tossed his head, causing strands of his glossy white hair to tumble against his face and shoulder blades. "God certainly has by now. Do you know what could happen if my master found me here with you? Oh, he would not be pleased! Not at all! He loves me, you know. I doubt he plans to release me any time soon."

"_Master_?" Her eyes widened while her face took on the stark whiteness of porcelain. Her hands fled to her lips upon hearing a low, emotionless chuckle escape his throat. All at once, her anger faded into horror and bewilderment. "Walter is responsible for what happened. If he comes here, he will not have you! I will not let him!"

Without warning, he burst into a fit of loud, cold laughter. The idea of her protecting him against the red-haired demon was ridiculous. He shuddered at the thought of seeing Walter's beautiful, accursed face once again. More than he realized, he never wanted to look at the master of Eternal Night – and master of his heart – ever again. The only thing that comforted him was the fact that he was with Catherine. However, such a great virtue was becoming tedious, for she did not know him or his lord. The firelight danced across his wan visage, emphasizing the mirror-like deadness in his eyes when he replied bitterly. "He already has…"

To this, she said nothing. The pain of looking at her sorrow-ridden expression drove a wedge through his heart. He hurt her more than himself. Nothing mattered, anymore. Mattering did not coincide with his ilk, for humans already carried that burden instead. Nevertheless, the harshness in his face softened slightly when she broke into tears. He had cast the final stone against her heart and shattered it like glass. However, his conscience still tugged at him with the persistence of a lost child. Lightheadedness overcame him and he fell against the wall, narrowly missing the hearth behind him. "Forgive me." he whispered, uncertain if the sentiment was meant for her or himself. "I am growing weak again, and I need you. I cannot blame what I did on the curse, for I was willing and aware-"

"Enough!" Catherine held up her hand, commanding him into an abrupt silence. Between sobs, she approached him with slow, heavy steps. The woman's thick, raven hair cascaded around her soft, face and shoulder blades. The gravity of what he had done injured her more deeply than the cuts on her arms and wrists. She stood over him for a time, and her voice was so faint it was barely audible. "You are with me now, Joachim-"

"Am I?" He asked. His eyes flitted from her to the fire. "I do not think so. I am with _him_. What's done cannot be undone. Though, admittedly, I rather enjoyed it. Perhaps it was worth it, after all-"

Before he could continue further, her hand struck him across the face so hard that he reeled back against the wall. It surprised him that, despite Catherine's petite figure, she had managed to deal a harsh blow against his nose. Warm, tangy blood slid down his lips in a thin stream. "Joachim!" Catherine sobbed and flung her arms around him, her face a mask of regret as she attempted to comfort him. But he did not want her comfort and promptly wrenched himself free. "I am sorry!" She cried out. Her voice became lost in the snarls of rage that filled his throat as he stabbed her with a dagger-like glare. "I didn't want to hurt you but you are frightening me!"

"Frightening you?" His tongue loathly raked that single word as he floated upright, his eyes blazing with a fury not even hell's demons could parallel. "You did not mean to hurt me? Why should I believe you, when you do not believe me? I never wanted to hurt you…_until now_."

A low, guttural growl vibrated within his throat and he floated to his feet, resting his hand against the wall for support. Blood continued to stream from his nose before he wiped it away with his hand, and flung the remnants across the floor. Rage filled him faster than wildfire while he stared at her, incinerating her apologetic look with his hatred. The woman's bright green eyes stared back in disbelief. Her lips parted in an attempt to speak but only a chilling silence drifted through the air. The longer he looked at her, the louder the rage building inside him screamed to be unleashed. Everything about her represented what he was not – human. Rather than comforting him as he expected, her beauty, grace, and compassion stung him like poison. In that moment, soul downed inside the hatred consuming his heart.

Everything seemed to blur around him and become indistinguishable. Everything except the young woman standing before him. Her green eyes were wide like that of a startled doe, and her skin seemed to lose all the color it possessed. When she began to back away – searching in vain for an escape – he advanced toward her. His superior speed enabled him to grasp her by the wrist and drag her forward, seizing her like an eagle catching its prey, and unwilling to release her from his grasp. As if from far away, he heard her scream his name as he pushed her down onto the floor and drove his fangs into her wrist. Like a wild beast, he pinned her beneath him whilst he drained the blood from the open vein and swallowed the heavy red substance with abandon. The harder she struggled against him, the faster her blood flowed down his throat. He heard her heart pounding against her chest as she shuddered beneath him, her cries silenced by the pain he inflicted upon her with malicious enthusiasm.

As he drank, he saw her other hand grasp the bloodstained dagger hidden beneath the folds of her dress. It was dagger she had used to sever her own flesh in his name. With an agonized scream, she slashed at his face. The woman's accuracy, in spite of her terror and pain, took the snarling youth by complete surprise. Catherine brought the steel edge of the weapon up the side of his face, spilling his blood across the floor as she struggled against his relenting grasp. Horrendous pain seared through his face like lightning bolts. The youth roared, released his fangs, and brought his hands to his face. Blood squished between his fingers and spilled down his throat. It occurred to him, despite his suffering, that she could have stabbed him through the heart instead. However, after he uncovered his face, he noticed the tears brimming in her eyes. Blood gushed from her injured wrist and dripped onto the floor around her feet. He watched her stagger back toward the door as the tears building in her eyes cascaded down her pallid cheeks. Haggard breaths escaped her lungs and she struggled to remain standing, and nearly tripped over the skirt of her dress.

For a moment, he did not approach. He merely levitated in place, staring at her with his unblinking pale eyes, which professed the emptiness devouring him whole. The creature's penetrating stare seemed to see through her as if her delicate skin was transparent. In his mind's eye, he saw the fragile, intricate network of veins running beneath her sloping neck. A strange, distorted haze enclosed around him while he gazed through her skin, and listened to her rapid heartbeat. The scent of her blood and fear was beautiful to him. Had he not taken his time admiring her, he would have been upon her instantly. However, his twisted appreciation of the woman's beautiful countenance convinced him to take his time. There was no need to rush, for she was his. Like a cat with a mouse, he would toy with her for a while, for the chase would be almost as enjoyable as the catch. Almost.

Catherine cried out but he could not understand the meaning of her words. _Joachim_! The sound of her voice was strange to him, even though it was familiar. He wanted to remember what it was supposed to mean but his thoughts drew nothing, like a well without water. Nothing meant something. Something meant nothing. The world was a puzzling complex of sounds and meanings. The harder he tried to decipher her words, the less coherent they became. Only the sound of her voice made him hesitate. She tried to draw him back but he no longer knew himself. The only thing he knew was the sound of her heartbeat and the blood rushing through her veins. Terrible, ravenous hunger filled him when she at last turned and fled, her amethyst dress floating behind her as her feet pounded against the floor. The youth eagerly gave chase and flew after her, his pale figure flying through the dark cathedral with god-like agility.

When he entered the sanctuary, his vigilant eyes caught sight of her running toward the doors. Even in her desperation, she posed no match to the creature pursuing her. He glided down the aisle with the ease of a prince, ignoring the painful throbbing from the cut in his face. With a cruel grin, he parted his lips and revealed the needle-like fangs they had concealed. If he wanted to, he could have summoned his swords. However, the hunt would have been much less enjoyable and the end far too swift for his liking. In the haze of his lust, blood began to appear over the floor like shimmering red pools. It was everywhere. The statues, once cold and lifeless, began to cry crimson tears. He saw it stream down their perfectly sculpted cheeks. In a matter of seconds, his hand snatched her by the throat and dragged her flailing form behind him like a rag doll. She would be the ultimate sacrifice. Her blood, so pure and full of life, would finally save him from the accursed, tormenting hunger.

With the violence of a devil, he flung her against the altar steps to converge upon her, his predatory-like eyes scanning her delicate milky throat. While he began to tear at her dress, her hand cupped his face whilst her voice, once soft, cried out a final plea against his ruthless heart. Yet, it seemed she had already resigned herself to her fate. "Joachim, have you forgotten me, at last? Please tell me it isn't true!"

After a moment, he paused to look at her face. Indeed, she was a lovely creature, and perfect for him in every way. Something inside him struggled against the urge, though he knew not why. He drew a sharp breath, and his voice filtered through the darkness, the passion of his desire conflicting with his remorseful lament. "I remember…not remembering you…"

"Are you certain?" She pleaded and struggled against his iron-like grip. "You can't be lost to me, Joachim!"

"Lost to you?" He choked whilst the frustration inside him began to mount. "You are nothing but a _lowly human_-"

"You know me!" She insisted, and for a second, her anger stunned him so much that he was unable to speak. A fiery glint appeared within her brilliant green eyes, whilst she covered his lips in a heavy kiss. Like a flickering candle in the dark, her kiss reminded him of someone he knew long ago. Of himself. Joachim Armster still fought back the shadows encompassing his mind. Relief overcame him even though he was uncertain of it. With the determination of a saint, she returned his cruelty with love. "Please, Joachim…know me again…the way you once did. You loved me and still do."

A smile appeared across his lips and the hands that once struck her, soon enveloped her in a gentle embrace. "Catherine?" As if speaking her name for the first time, memories invaded his raging thoughts. "I…know your taste…"

"You are still Joachim, for you know me as I know you! We have been together nearly our entire lives. Please, stop…for the man I love…"

He buried his face in the thick, ebony locks of her hair, feeling her warmth attempt to comfort the coldness inside his heart. It pained him to realize what he had become, even though a profound aspect of him still denied it. She would never believe he was inhuman. Catherine's unyielding faith brought him little comfort, however, and cursed him instead. If his fading consciousness desired compassion before it slipped away, it was from his beloved, whom he cradled in his arms. "You still love me, Catherine?" He lowered his face and smothered her lips in a tender, long kiss. He felt her breaths grow heavy whilst his lips combed her smooth cheeks. One of his hands intertwined with hers; cherishing her and everything, she was, while his lips caressed her neck…

"Love lasts forever." Catherine whispered gently as she allowed her bright, green eyes to flutter closed.

His eyes silently traced the graceful, smooth flesh of her vulnerable neck. He drew her closer, his dead, pale blue spheres welling with suppressed tears as he parted his lips…

"_Indeed, it does_…_Catherine_…"

* * *

The sanctuary whirled when he awoke. Explosions racked through his head when he slowly sat up and was greeted by the night. Moonlight shrouded his pale, naked figure in calming light. A low groan fled his lips and he ran a hand through his ivory hair. As if lost in a dream, his broken thoughts made him uncertain of where he was until he saw the painted angels gazing down at him from the sanctuary's vaulted ceiling. Without thinking, he floated upright and shivered in the eerie, specter-like shadows surrounding him. Not a sound dare break the stillness. As he stared into the dark, he noticed a foul taste in his mouth and brought a trembling hand across his lips. Something cold and wet clung to his fingers. A sharp gasp fled his throat and he abruptly withdrew them. A dark, crimson liquid stained his fingernails and hands, and its paint-like texture convinced him it was imaginary. However, as he drifted slowly forward, he noticed the red substance trailed to where he had awoken on the floor.

_What have I done? _

The question echoed through his spinning thoughts whilst he followed the smear of blood. He wandered forward, feeling his body tremble as the grisly sight became gradually too real and horrible to accept. It was then, everything he dreaded most, all the worst nightmares in the world came to life before his very eyes. A broken scream erupted from his throat as he flew forward. Tears streamed slowly down his cheeks.

"_No, No…No!_ _This can't be!_"

Her once bright, cheerful eyes were glassy, still and stared up at the heavens. A pool of blood surrounded her and trickled slowly down the steps on which she lay. Like a witness, the cross hanging on the wall loomed above her. He felt to his knees upon the steps and lifted her limp, cold, and naked body into his arms. Not a whisper of a breath escaped her lungs. All the life she possessed was brutally drained away. A demon destroyed her. A man awoke to save her…but her soul departed from the world without him. _No…! What have I done? She was innocent! _With a bitter scream, he began to weep. He clutched her lifeless figure against his chest, whilst pale moonbeams filtered across the floor, illuminating the blood-covered floor and her porcelain figure. Coils of blood-covered ringlets tumbled chaotically against her face and back. Desperately, he attempted to decipher his memories, but they were empty of everything except his last moment with her. He remembered the softness of her voice when he held her close, and heard her whisper his name – and the love in her heart. As if hoping her soul would return to him, his broken voice called out as he looked toward the starry heavens, searching beyond the windows of his holy prison for absolution but finding none.

Repeatedly to himself, he spoke the sweetness, and familiar sound of her name. All that remained of the woman was a lifeless shell of her former self. Her face seemed oddly peaceful. Blood stained her soft cheeks and matted her beautiful ebony hair. He forced himself to look at the proof of his treachery – the evidence of his cruelty, folly, and lust. His eyes drifted to the

two puncture marks marring the delicate skin on her neck. Dried remnants of blood caked around the open wounds. Between fits of sobs, he stroked her hair and whispered indiscernible words of comfort in her ear. Within his injured soul, he believed in her belief of him, and in the possibly they could coexist. Love, in all its depth and meaning, was supposed to preserve the remnants of his humanity.

Together, two naked figures lay in the moonlight like fallen spirits. Blood slid down his trembling hands and pooled around them on the floor. Words became unnecessary. As if her body would disintegrate in his arms, he held her against his cold chest, despising the fiendish nakedness of his ashen flesh, which looked as white as milk in the pale moonlight. He loved her more than himself. He loved her more than the world would ever know…to the point that love was lethal. Very delicately, he brushed her eyelids closed with the tips of his fingers, allowing her to rest at last. What little remained of himself died with her. Joachim existed only in confines of memory, of things that once were, and were no more. Lost in time and carried away. A pale, wretched, murderous creature stole away the man inside.

_I am a living memory._

Tears continued falling down his cheeks and dripped off his chin. Something inside him warned that he was no longer alone. With a heavy sigh, he broke his gaze from her long enough to force his head up. Standing not even ten feet from him was a familiar tall, armored figure. Coils of thick shimmering red hair splayed against the creature's broad shoulder blades and beautiful visage. However, the moment he saw the figure, Joachim's eyes narrowed into slits and he spat, his voice resembling the hiss of an angry serpent. "You…!"

A smirk shadowed the figure's face as he stepped forward, his armored boots thumping across the floor. His dark, glittering eyes stared at the naked young man before flitting to the lifeless woman draped in his arms. For a moment, he grimaced at the sight, though the empathy he expressed soon faded into cold indifference. "As I said…" Walter began, his voice darkening to the point that the young man froze and became almost statue-like. "You are inhuman. What happened was inevitable."

"I do not know what happened!" He spat, bearing his teeth and allowing the red-haired companion a glimpse of his gleaming fangs. With a trembling hand, he wiped some of the tears from his eyes, even though more continued to fall and replace them. "This was all your fault! You…you…turned me into…a _beast_!"

"I made you immortal!" The demon snapped. One of his gauntlet-covered hands formed into a fist, and his fine, delicate lips curled into a resentful sneer. With a huff, Walter approached the young man and towered over him, his long, black cape sweeping around his muscular figure whilst he continued. "Vampires are destined to feed off humans. Love is not included in our thirst for blood, nor can it prevent us from causing others harm. Not even the ones we love most."

"Of course, Walter." Joachim sneered, his tone acquiring a hint of sarcasm when his eyes rolled back in their sockets and he burst into a fit of audacious laughter, not caring if he offended the other vampire with his mockery. Even though he incensed Walter, he did not care. The worst thing that could happen had already befallen him. As he laughed, the brokenness he felt inside his soul compelled him to emphasize his pain. "_I loved her_. But because of you, she lives no more…_Catherine_…my Catherine…" He had to stop and catch his breath. It was too much but he forced himself to speak. Walter would hear him and know his pain, even if it cost him his own life, the red-haired tormentor standing over him would understand. He would _make_ Walter understand. "I knew her since we were children! My entire life…and my love…died with her. You can't even begin to understand…how much she meant to me. I despise the day I met you! Now, I have nothing-"

"Fool!" In a matter of seconds, the demon grasped him round the throat, silencing his hatred in his throat. He felt Walter's gauntlet dig into the tender flesh of his neck. Crimson hair cascaded around the vampire's striking visage, whilst his black, abyss-like spheres devoured the young man's rage. "What did you expect would happen? When you did not return to Eternal Night, I suspected that woman convinced you to stay. Eternity has a price…and you paid for it with her life."

"I would not have bitten her, had you not made me into a monster!" He protested.

"Are you certain?" Walter raised an eyebrow and glanced at the woman in his arms. A twinge of empathy flooded across his elegant face. For a moment, Joachim suspected his lord wished to take him into his arms. Yet, Walter knew better than to try. If he did, the young man would have instantly torn the other vampire's throat out with his bare hands. Nevertheless, he heard the red-haired lord emit a sigh, and his voice softened somewhat. "You are not innocent." He whispered. "You put her at great risk by refusing to leave her. Vampires cannot love without consequence, Joachim."

"And what of us?" Joachim croaked. As much as he had begun to hate the red-haired demon, a part of him clung to Walter like a leech. More than anything, he feared being alone. Everyone who knew him was dead and gone. The woman he loved had ascended into heaven – without him – and _because of him_. "You…caused all of this! I…defiled her…even though…all I wanted…was to be with her. _I killed her_!"

"You cannot live as humans do, Joachim. You belong to the night…and to-"

"No one." Joachim snarled, flashing his incisors once again.

"To me." Walter corrected. The red-haired lord's lips curled. However, Joachim ignored his master's growing impatience.

With a dismissive flick of the hand, he hissed between gritted enamels. "Think what you want. I hope you enjoy burning in hell, Walter, for I plan to send you there myself!"

To his surprise, Walter merely smiled in response. A red tint appeared in the creature's eyes, and the youth's vision began to darken. Joachim struggled to remain conscious and tightened his hold around Catherine's cold, unmoving body, willing to die with her if it meant escaping the red-haired lord's possessive grip over his heart.

"We will see about that, servant."


	27. Chapter 27: Broken

**Author's Note: **It has been a while since my last update but I hope this chapter was worth the wait! I'm pretty sure most of you have noticed Joachim is going over the deep end. Prepare to read a lot of violence, pain, and sex in this particular chapter. This story is rated M, after all :) Sara will make her appearance in the next chapter if you are curious to see how I will write her into the story. Joachim has really changed a lot since Chapter I...and Catherine's fate certainly doesn't help :( Also, in case you missed Walter's 'secret' in chapter 25, I hope you will now understand why the Ebony Stone is so important to him.

Joachim struck me as being a very 'dark' kind of character in LoI, hence the escalating amounts of violence and sex. Joachim definitely is not 'likable' in many ways, though that will change later on in case you are worried things have gone too far.

Special Thanks

As always, thank you for reading this story. Very special thanks go to those who took the time to review. Constructive comments help me improve my writing and encourage me to continue updating. I think a lot of fanfiction writers don't finish their stories because they think no one is reading them. So, if you like this story (or don't?) please don't hesitate to let me know.

Very special thanks:

**LateNiteSlacker **(for editing my work!), **Rahar Moonfire **(for editing my work as well and always reviewing) :D, **Suikorin **(thanks for the constructive comments and compliments!), **Andinah** (I'm glad to know you like the second ending better), & **haruharu **(wow, it really sucks that the Belmonts are poor now. I am currently working on the LeonXJoachim story so stay tuned for the release of Chapter I after it is edited)

**Chapter XXVII**

The haze surrounding him lifted when he opened his eyes. Darkness greeted him instead of heaven's light… _Where am I? _He blinked several times as he took in the heavy scent of pollen drifting through the cool night air. The familiar sounds of the night filled his ears – the chirping of crickets, the soft flow of water from a nearby fountain, and leaves rustling in the gentle wind. After blinking several times, he sat up, his entire body aching with pain. A gasp fled his lips as he pulled his legs close to his chest, realizing that he was lying naked on the cold, stone earth. His colorless flesh gleamed in the red moonlight flooding through the room's broken glass ceiling. Various types of plants grew within the room. Vines and ivy climbed the walls and nearly reaching the ceiling. After only seconds of contemplating his surroundings, he knew where he was.

_Eternal Night._

"Catherine!" His voice croaked her name but only silence greeted him. He scanned the room, searching for her, and hoping the sights around him were imaginary. She was not there. "_No! This can't be! Catherine? How can I be here?_" He pressed his hands against his face as he sought to remember what had happened. Yet, the sight of a familiar face reminded him that he did not have to. Joachim trembled upon noticing Walter's tall, armored form leaning against the back wall of the room. The vampire's brilliant red hair coiled against his ashen visage. A frown creased the corner of Walter's lips upon hearing the young man's anguished cries.

"The lady is not here. Forget her, for you shall never see her in this life or the next."

With a broken scream, he jumped to his feet, not caring that his nakedness displayed before his lord's thirsting eyes. The fact he was still alive was unbearable. Unable to endure it any longer, his throat released a howl of rage and his once cold, pale blue eyes became engulfed by a fiery will to rip apart the red-haired lord like a savage beast. Joachim felt his soul erupt in anger. "No! _You bastard_! _Why_? I was going to die, and everything was supposed to end! Why do you keep me with you in this immortal hell?"

"Enough!" The vampire waved his hand, which subsequently struck him across the face. In spite of their distance from one other, Walter's power was unrelenting – and growing stronger, more possessive, the longer he remained in Eternal Night. The pain throbbing through his wounded cheek meant nothing, for the most agonizing crime had already been committed upon his heart and soul. Tears slipped down his cheeks as if to burn the unholy flesh to the bone with their sadness. Something inside him shattered like glass. Joachim fell to his knees upon the ground in a fit of sobs. Though his words meant nothing to the demon, his injured soul compelled him to voice the crimes committed against it.

"No! Tis' not enough!" He screamed, searching the room for his swords. If he could have found even one of them, his rage made him capable of driving it through the other lord's tainted heart. "Nothing is ever enough for you is it, Walter? Beat me, scorn me, punish me any way you wish! But _Catherine_? Why did you take me back to this wretched place—"

"Because, as I have said before, you belong to me." The dark anger within Walter's voice filled the room. As if possessed, the demon's eyes glowed of fire, willing to devour the young man's pain without a second thought. Despite his lord's beauty, a terrifying maliciousness filled every fiber of his being. With wolf-like steps, the red-haired lord padded toward him, his great, black cape sweeping around him like unfurling wings. Walter's armor gleamed like freshly spilt blood in the moonlight. Though the demon was more powerful, the youth's wounded heart made him unpredictable and dangerous. As if knowing it, the red-haired lord remained at a watchful distance. The sound of his deep, resonant voice made the air tremble. "You think I would let you die there with _her_? You insult me with your whining, crying, and pathetic laments! For _what_?"

"Innocence!" Joachim screamed the word, whilst he drew a breath and bared his fangs. As if his words could unleash the fires of hell upon his lord, he roared furiously. "She meant _everything _to me! I will never forgive you for what I did to her…because of _you_…"

"I do not ask for forgiveness." Walter replied with a cold, indignant glare reaping through his calm gaze. Something in his eyes, however, revealed that his servant's words succeeded in striking a nerve, nonetheless. "I saw you with that woman – ready to die. Death is what she wanted, and death is what she received. Though you loved her, have I not shown you the same devotion? I gave you my blood, my body, and everything you could desire – eternal life, beauty, and strength! Yet, you would rather _die_!" One of Walter's gauntlet-covered hands balled into fist. As if ready to smash the defiant youth to pieces, his eyes blazed whilst he tilted his head up and roared into the night. The force of his rage and power made the walls quake. The stone secured around his neck glinted under the moon's deathly red light.

Joachim looked upon the object and its master hatefully. No amount of words could describe the loathing in his eyes. With a quivering snarl, he collected his thoughts until he rasped. "I did not want anything you offered me!"

"But you took it nonetheless." Walter's eyes glinted. "And when you did, you sought even greater power. Do not try to be so noble, Joachim. You thirst for power, lust for blood, even to the point of begging for it. You believe the humanity you felt with her was genuine?" Loud, cruel laughter escaped the other lord's throat. He threw his head back, allowing his thick, red hair to cascade against his broad shoulder blades as an amused look appeared across his face. The vampire's elegant lips formed a mocking smirk. "Oh, my dear servant…love will not save you from this life-"

"Why?" Joachim snapped. "Because it did not save you?"

Walter's eyes widened into saucers. The amusement left his face as if the young man's accusation had disintegrated it. A dark shadow crept across the red-haired lord's ashen flesh when he stepped forward, trembling when he replied quietly. "_What_?" With a huff, he approached Joachim's naked form until he eclipsed the moonlight shining upon him from above. The air in the room became suddenly colder. Joachim's breath escaped from his gaping mouth in thick, silvery puffs. Without batting an eyelid, Walter's starlit eyes focused upon him, daring the youth to speak. After silence returned it, he hissed under his breath. "I am curious to know your meaning. I am the master of Eternal Night. You, on the other hand, are nothing more than an ungrateful little wretch I preserved out of pity. Not even eternity will change that fact, Joachim. Accept it. Otherwise, I may grow weary of looking upon you!"

"You know my meaning!" Joachim hissed, ignoring the fact that Walter was capable of striking him at any given moment. It would only take a single, well-aimed punch to send his frail body reeling against the stone. "I know why you play those games. Has eternity made you immune to the love of others, or perhaps, jealous of it? I suppose _she_ was just something you played with in your boredom. They say she was the devil's concubine-"

"_No_!" A horrible, enraged scream fled Walter's lips as he backhanded the young man across the face. Spurts of blood flew into the air. Joachim fell, coughing up blood, upon the ground by his lord's feet. It was rare for his lord's anger escalate to such an enormous scale. Red lines trickled down his chin and neck as he lay, gazing upward into Walter's eyes, and unable to look away. The fire in the red-haired lord's eyes could have incinerated him. After pausing a moment, the youth threw his head back and burst into a fit of cold, delighted laughter. The sound echoed through the lonely room as he rolled across the floor, laughing so hard his chest ached from the exertion. Walter's eyes penetrated into him but he no longer cared.

Glee replaced his pain. He struggled to cease laughing, whilst he remarked, allowing the boldness in his voice to fill the silence. "Oh my, did I say something? My master is more sensitive than I thought! It seems that the _precious possession_ you own, owns you…and your heart! Apparently, you still have one!"

"Silence!" Walter's heavy boot collided into his chest and he roared, grasping the young man by the neck with his vice-like grip before tossing him across the room. Joachim flew toward the wall until his back collided against it. A dull, snapping noise filled his ears as he collapsed upon the ground, shuddering, whilst he forced his blood-stained lips into a cheeky grin. Without giving him the chance to get up, Walter translocated and snatched him by the neck with such force that his breath emptied from his lungs. But he loved the pain. Indeed, he had grown so used to it that he longed for it. Although he could have, he did not struggle, even when Walter's tightening grip threatened to suffocate him. Joachim smiled indignantly whilst the demon's abyss-like eyes threatened to swallow him in their darkness.

"_I…loved her…_" Walter's grip upon his throat lessoned until he dropped the creature on the floor like lead. The red-haired lord's armored frame heaved whilst he retreated from the youth's callous gaze. Curtains of his lush, red hair swept around his ashen visage.

Joachim relished Walter's grief-stricken expression. For the first time, his lord's skin seemed to pale to the point of lacking all color. The youth heaved clots of blood whilst he struggled to sit up, ignoring his throbbing head as the smile upon his lips broadened. Some small part of him wanted to anger Walter to the point of killing him. Rage bubbled inside Joachim like a volcano, which was fueled by the sight of his lord's pain. Like a cobra preparing to strike, the pale creature hissed. "What do _you_ know about love? Really, do not make me laugh, for my face is rather sore as it is! You always want what you cannot have, Walter." Joachim began to giggle wildly, even though the situation was far from amusing to his wounded mind and heart.

Walter's lower lip curled. Disgust filled their starlit pools as if he were looking upon a leper. Joachim fell against the ground but reached up, grasping Walter's hand, unwilling to let go until his lord kicked him in the chest like a dog. He fell back as several of his ribs snapped like toothpicks under the force of Walter's steel boot. "Insolent wretch!" He spat. "Death would be too good for you. I do not know why I bothered saving you-"

"Oh, I think you do!" Joachim smiled until he coughed up blood. Between incoherent gurgles, he managed to continue laughing. "It might be wise for me to continue living. At least in doing so, I can curse you for all you have done. I swear, I will not allow you to forget!"

"There are many things I could do to you, now…" Walter's voice fell to a deathly whisper as he loomed over the laughing creature who, by all accounts, appeared to ignore him. Joachim's mind was in a haze. He could neither see or grasp the meaning of his lord's words. Everything inside him was twisted and broken, like a piece of warped driftwood rotting in the sea. Yet, he sensed his lord was attempting to reach through his clouded thoughts. While staring down at the writhing form on the floor, Walter continued calmly. "Though I could punish you, your current…condition…is sufficient. It seems you are not yourself, as of late…"

"This is what you wanted, is it not?" The youth spat, still laughing, he floated upright. It was miraculous that he still moved. Locks of glossy white hair swept against his pale cheeks as his eyes drifted to Walter's face. Trembling, his naked form fell into the vampire's arms. When he lord attempted to move away, his hands flew to Walter's face and cupped it until he forced his blood-covered lips against his. Walter's eyes widened instantly as he gagged, nearly throwing the creature away. Without giving him the chance, Joachim broke the kiss and whispered. "Now you have me, Walter. If you want me to submit, by all means, make me into your slave. You can keep me for a thousand years and I will hate you always. You drained me of love until I am empty of it, now."

A long, thoughtful pause returned the boldness of his words. He half-expected his lord to slam him against the ground like an insect. To his surprise, Walter wrenched himself free and backed away, his eyes glinting. "How very _dramatic_." he scoffed, ignoring the youth's angry growls. His smooth, graceful lips curved into a disgusted sneer. "Eternity is a long time, Joachim. Love does not die, even though humans do…" Though he did not finish, the young man understood his implication. Not even centuries could wash away the sorrow experienced by the lord of Eternal Night. As if knowing the young man's perceptiveness, he hissed, his fangs flashing like knives whilst he retreated into the shadows. Walter had never walked in the light, for shadows were the only things he knew. Pain resonated through every fiber of the demon's visage. However, a proud, restrained smile soon erased his sorrow and doubt, like a tide washing away footprints in the sand.

What was he without her? Love was a dead and meaningless concept, for something profound within his soul died with her. The woman who stood by him, comforted him, cared for him, devoted herself to him, and loved him was gone. Tears welled in his pale eyes as he pictured Catherine's smiling face, her lovely green eyes…reduced to memories. Catherine existed now only in his mind and heart – or more accurately – what was left of it. An empty shell of his former self suffered for his sins. The only comfort he received was the fact that both the woman he loved and the child he fathered were in heaven. Joachim loved them both more than himself. Now, he loved nothing, for all the love inside him was gone, leaving behind a decaying, mindless shell of a man. Hatred marred him until he felt nothing at all. The cruel grip of the curse seized his mind and heart the moment he awoke and discovered himself damned.

Catherine's soul still pleaded for him to escape the darkness surrounding him. The youth's pale eyes widened as he delved deeper into his accursed thoughts. Somewhere in the dark confines of his mind, he heard the sound of an infant - his child – crying out for its father's love. The loss and grief he felt echoed through his empty soul as he stood, staring into Walter's black eyes and waiting for the abyss to swallow him at last.

Walter would have things his way. The vampire's voice darkened. "I want you to find Lady Trantoul and bring her here. The Crimson Stone is near…and I suspect that former knight may know its whereabouts. I can feel its power growing…far too strong…" His fingers reached for the stone around his neck and danced across its jeweled surface. For a moment, a look of uncertainty appeared across Walter's ashen visage. "Perhaps a worthy adversary will face me at last. Though your efforts were valiant, you were hardly a challenge. I cannot afford to be distracted."

"Distracted?" Joachim breathed and coughed up blood. As if it were a nuisance, he brushed the red liquid off his lips with the back of his hand. A wicked grin crossed his lips as his steely gaze bore into the red-haired lord with a will to tear him to pieces. Like a wild animal, a hungry look appeared within them as he snarled. "Given time, I will show you how challenging I can-"

"Silence!" Walter raised his hand, ignoring the young man's attempt to bait him. His dark eyes narrowed impatiently. "The lady lives in Brendelham. I want to keep her alive for a little while…just so that I may see how powerful this Leon Belmont truly is." A tint of red flashed through Walter's gaze. One of his gauntlet-covered hands curled into fist, ready to smack the pale creature if he so much as moved. He articulated his words to avoid the possibility of misinterpretation. Whilst he spoke, Joachim looked on impassively, his temper cooling upon hearing his lord's voice soften. "Watch over her…very carefully. However, her blood is not for you. You exist only to serve me. If you do as I say, perhaps, I may grant you a reward."

The young man's eyes glinted. "Such as?"

"We shall see."

Joachim grimaced when his red-haired tormentor slinked closer. "You are growing weak," Walter whispered, his dark eyes glinting like gemstones in the white moonlight. Pale beams danced across his armored frame, giving him an ominous, ethereal appearance. The anger in the demon's eyes seemed to relent somewhat as he continued. "Even though you want to die, your body will heal itself against your will. Tis' an ability you shall come to appreciate, once you regain yourself. Nevertheless, your need for blood is increasing…" A bitter sigh escaped Walter's lips whilst he surveyed the wounded young man lying on the ground. "Though I should leave you here as punishment for your insolence, you have suffered greatly. I am willing to be generous with you, so long as you do not disobey me again."

"Generous?" The young man wheezed, his dagger-like eyes stabbing into the other lord. "You have…done nothing…except take from me since the time we met, Walter. The only thing I want from you now, is your life."

With a smirk, the red-haired vampire kneeled beside him. Curtains of lush, crimson hair flowed around Walter's refined cheeks whilst he shook his head. "It seems you are still lamenting over that woman." Impatience seeped through his beautiful features whilst he continued, a hint of sarcasm filtering through his voice. "Suffering does not make you entitled to power. Your ingratitude makes you unworthy of my attention."

Desperation seeped through Joachim's stagnant eyes the moment Walter tried to turn away. Without thinking, he seized the red-haired lord by the wrist. "I am worthy! But were it not for you, I would still be-"

"Human." Walter's smile faded.

Joachim stiffened under the red-haired lord's penetrating stare. Already, he could feel the bones in his ribcage mending themselves. His hand lifted, touching his cheek, and he noticed that the swelling in his face was subsiding. Although the pain was immense it was gradually lessening. The wounds he sustained from his master's abuses would have taken months to recover from if he was human. He cringed the moment Walter's gauntlet-covered hand cupped his face and lifted his head, allowing strands of his ivory hair to cascade across his slender shoulder-blades.

With a huff, the red-haired lord gave the youth a knowing look while whispering in his ear. "If you are indeed worthy…drink from me freely, as you once did. If you refuse, I will shatter your pathetic body like glass. _Decide_."

Joachim did not need to decide, for the searing pain in his mouth compelled him to take his lord's offer. One of his delicate hands slid across Walter's shoulder to his neck, brushing aside the coils of Walter's deep red hair until his fingers grasped the other vampire by the nape and pulled his head forward. Despite his forcefulness, Walter merely continued to smile, his dark eyes glittering whilst the young man's lips parted. More than anything, he longed for the sweet, luscious taste of his master's blood. It sickened him when he thought of how much he depended upon Walter. The smile upon the red-haired lord's graceful lips sought to dominate and trap him. However, Walter's mesmerizing beauty still greatly influenced his heart, for he no longer had the strength to resist it. After drawing a heavy breath, he wrapped his arms around the red-haired lord's waist, kissing the side of Walter's neck with his cold, ashen lips. Walter's milk-white, flawless skin made the young man shiver the moment his lips covered it. With ravenous delight, Joachim kissed and licked Walter's neck and tightened his embrace.

Walter released a groan, allowing his head to fall back, his hair tumbling across his broad shoulders and back in crimson waves. Walter's eyes flutter closed. Though his master had no heartbeat, he sensed the demon's arousal growing. Joachim covered every visible part of his neck with hungry kisses as his voice lowered, whispering the sound of his lord's name like a prayer, until his fangs greedily punctured through the delicate flesh. Euphoria consumed every part of his body and drowned his pain in blood. He felt Walter shudder, his great frame tensing as the young man fed. Warm, luscious blood rolled down Joachim's throat and trickled from the corners of his lips. Walter's blood revitalized him in ways nothing else could. While he drank, he began to feel stronger, and his once agonizing wounds felt like mere pinpricks. Yet, he knew what his lord expected in exchange the moment he withdrew and felt his body become limp. Walter's powerful hands caught him around the small of his back and held him.

Joachim gazed up at his face, noticing that Walter was breathing heavily, his eyelids half-closed as if in a dream state. Walter's cheek pressed against his own, the coldness of his flesh making him shudder. Streams of blood trickled down the other vampire's sloping neck. Walter's calm, sonorous voice made the young man fall completely still. "Tis' not too late for you to regain my favor…" he whispered as his lips pressed against the young man's forehead. Despite wanting to wretch from his touch, the youth felt a dull ache from his body cry out for more. A gasp parted through his lips upon feeling his master's hand snaking down his thigh to the hardening organ between his legs. He fell limp in his arms, offering himself to his master's lust. What was one more crime upon his soul…if he still had one?

Laughter escaped his throat from the gentle, possessive, touch of his lord's hand upon his erection. "You want to reclaim me, don't you?" He managed to rasp, his chest heaving as Walter's hand became more demanding. The pleasure of it filled him and made his pale, lifeless eyes become alight under his escalating desire. He looked up into Walter's black eyes, losing himself in the abyss as the other lord's lips covered his in a forceful kiss. Joachim wrapped his arms around Walter's neck, falling into his lord's embrace as their tongues intertwined, the hotness of the red-haired lord's breath contrasting with the icy feel of his hands.

Walter shed his armor as if it weighed nothing at all. It was not long until his lord's smooth, rippling arms held him close. Two pale bodies sprawled on the ground, illuminated in the moonlight flooding through the glass ceiling above. The earthy dampness surrounding them gave the impression of hell's Eden. The pale young man tried to absorb himself in the beauty. As if he were an angel that fell from the heavens, he sat up, casting his gaze upon the starry night sky until it was blocked by Walter's sculpted form. Hungry lips covered his and he found himself enclosed within his master's grasp. If he could cry for his soul, he would have in that moment. But he lost himself in his master's kiss and roaming hands. There was precious little foreplay. Walter's claw-like nails dug into his back and ripped the delicate flesh. The pain made Joachim's eyes spring open, though the silent, restrained agony appearing across his face made sound meaningless. He gritted his teeth and continued to smile. "You are so very predictable, milord." Joachim barely suppressing the urge to chuckle when Walter's eyes lifted to his face. "Shall this become routine over time? I hope not, lest you grow bored of me."

"That will not happen." Walter muttered, feigning interest in their conversation. The heaviness in his voice indicated he was not about to relinquish his arousal. Whilst the young man combed back his lord's thick, red hair, Walter's muscular frame covered him. A smug smile spread across Walter's lips. The demon's hot breath brushed across his cheek, his dark eyes gleaming whilst he continued. "I prefer it this way, for this is how it should be. _Pride is meaningless in servitude._"

The smile upon the young man's lips slowly faded. Hardly a moment later, his lord's hips moved forward, and the accursed, hardened organ entered him. But he did not cry out. He simply lay there, gazing up at the sky whilst his lord took him. Pain blinded his vision but he no longer cared, even as blood began trickling down the inside of his thighs. The soft chirping of crickets disappeared in the sounds of Walter's ecstasy, the moans of pleasure and the panting of his breath. Everything seemed to wash away from his mind as his lord converged upon him. Walter was the one dominating, taking, and doing as he wished. Joachim cried out whilst he bucked against his lord's thrusts, commanding him to go even deeper. He felt the red-haired lord's hold upon him tighten, nearly crushing his ribcage, whilst the force of his movements increased. Though they were face to face Walter did not look him in the eyes. He was not worth looking at.

There was no gentleness or compassion, yet he continued to respond to Walter's demands. He moved with the other lord, gasping and moaning when he remembered it was supposed to feel enjoyable. He tried to think about why such an act was so profound. The only answer he could think of was pleasure. Fleetingly, he thought of love, but he could not remember its meaning. _Love. _It was a word society had given too much power, for its very significance had destroyed its meaning. _I love you. _Three simple words people often spoke in order to convey the importance of their union. Walter never said it to him. Walter continued to thrust, panting heavily, his muscled arms strained. Joachim looked up into his lord's pleasure-entrenched face until the demon's kiss, which was cold, deep, and hungry, silenced his agonized moans. Walter rocked against him, harder and faster. Despite it all, he could feel the building sensation inside him, as the red-haired demon dragged him toward his inevitable release. It was then, just before, that the words escaped Joachim's lips. "_I love you…_" Words he meant and did not mean. Lies and truth mixed until neither were distinguishable, and had become as inseparable as their bodies and souls.

For an instant, Walter's eyes widened. His nails dug deeper into the young man's flesh until it bled. Blood flowed freely down his back, seeping into the soil and staining his hands. Though he had clearly heard the words, he returned them with a moan. Barely a moment later, he spilled his seed and collapsed, pinning Joachim against the ground beside his heavy frame. The moonlight blended with their ashen flesh as they lay drenched in perspiration, blood, and fluids. The chilling silence that followed made the youth's lids flutter closed. He was supposed to feel exhausted and sleep. Yet, sleep would not come. He stroked Walter's thick, red hair, and forced a smile. A malicious, cold smile that remained plastered upon his face as his lord drifted to sleep beside him.

_Even though you are the master of this castle, I am the master of you._

_Sleep well, milord, for you are mine…_

… _Forever…_

_

* * *

_

Hours later he was alone. Walter had risen, dressed himself, and disappeared without looking at the pale creature on the ground. Joachim pretended to be sleeping. When he was certain his lord was gone, he sat up and searched for his clothes. Unsurprisingly, Walter had returned his swords and left them with his clothing in the middle of the room. He snatched his robes, brushed the dirt off them, and dressed himself. _Come here. I need you, now. I am hungry and in quite a bad mood. Let us go and search for something to drink. While the master is away, we shall play. _A wicked grin crossed his lips as the blades rose up and surrounded him, their sickly, greenish light illuminating his pale face in the darkness. Like a specter, he floated toward the door and entered the room beyond, eager to find something to occupy his thoughts.

It did not take him long. A demon was lurking a few feet from the door. It had a humanoid shape, though its disfigured head and arms were covered in dirty bandages. Its thin body smelled of rotting flesh and death. In place of hands were three long, narrow blades covered with remnants of dirt and blood. The blades extended at least six feet, and were able to cut a man in half with a single well-aimed swipe. It was just the challenge he sought. All of the monsters under Walter's control were mindlessly aggressive. Though the creature refrained from attacking, knowing he was a vampire, the young man did not return the courtesy. With a loud, presumptuous laugh, he stilled his swords behind him and commanded the central sword to rise above his head, its steel blade projecting at the unwary demon. _Let's have a little fun, shall we? I despise the smell of that thing! Kill it. _The blade flew forth and impaled the creature through the chest. A horrendous roar vibrated through the room. The demon jumped back and dislodged sword. With a feral roar, it leapt into the air and used its long, pointed blades to burrow underground. His eyes narrowed upon the disturbed path of soil left in the demon's wake. One of the creature's three-pronged claws jutted through the soil, ready to slice him in half if he did not move. _How dare you try to kill __**me**__! _His thoughts raged whilst he bared his fangs. He was more than willing to demonstrate the extent of his power. _A little target practice would be fun. What better to practice on than a willing sacrifice! _

His superior speed enabled him to dodge the blade effortlessly. The demon's rage made it stupid and reckless. Despite missing him, it continued to dig underground until it burst from its hiding place in a single, leaping bound. Yet, the vampire had anticipated it. He waited until it landed upon the ground and drew back its arm to attack. He sent his sword away again, watching the weapon piece through the demon's shoulder and force it back against the ground. With the speed of a viper, he leapt upon the creature and tore into it with his fangs. Blood spattered across his face when his incisors clamped around the creature's jugular. Pieces of muscle, bone, and tissue flew into the air whilst he ripped into it like a hungry beast. Its blood, however, tasted as foul as its rotting flesh. It was sour and bitter – for demons were lifeless, soulless things, and without a heartbeat to keep the blood warm.

Though its blood was disgusting, he smiled as he severed the tendons in its neck with his fangs. Blood pooled around him as the head detached from the body and rolled across the ground. But he was far from satisfied. He withdrew his fangs and grasped the headless corpse, digging his claws into it until he succeeded in ripping its arms and legs completely off. The ease in which he dismembered it surprised him. Everything – whether it be beast, human, or demon, could become nothing if he wished it. Blood splashed across his face and he tossed the torso of the creature on the ground, watching its entrails spill out and seep into the dark, muddy soil. Rivers of blood poured across his armor, robes, and hands until he was surrounded by a sea of red. The bliss nearly made him tremble. Pale, lifeless eyes glanced about the room in search for more. With a proud laugh, he floated away from the scene, not forgetting to give the severed head a last kick as he left the room.

It did not take him long to find more of the burrowing demons. In a single room alone, he discovered two of them milling about. Like the previous one, neither attacked him, though the scent of the demon's blood on his clothing alerted their attention. They moved away, dragging their blade-like hands across the stone in an attempt to escape into the room beyond. _Are you afraid of me? Trying to flee like the vermin you are. There is no point. I have decided what shall be done with you. Satan in hell cannot save you from me! If you think your master is cruel, you have yet to see what his servant is capable of! _The demons burrowed themselves into the ground. Like the last, they stuck one of their blades above the soil, attempting to cut him apart as they barreled underground. He bared his fangs, positioning himself above and between them. When they burst from the ground he snatched them both by the neck. Whilst gripping them in each hand, his thoughts drifted to the dormant swords. _You know what to do. _Two blades abandoned their alignment and cut off their arms in a spray of blood. The demons' anguished roars shook the room as he dragged them across the floor, laughing as he went, whilst admiring the blood smearing the ground in their wake.

With a feral snarl, he dropped them on the ground and began to rip one of them apart. He buried his fangs in its face, tearing away the bandages covering it until he sighted the gruesome, disfigured thing it concealed. Empty eye-sockets, a half-formed nose, and a misshapen mouth located where a cheek should have been. Without hesitating, he dug his nails into its accursed flesh and ripped it apart, mutilating the corpse until it was even more unrecognizable than before. He threw his head back, laughing to no one, whilst he peeled its skin away and devoured the rotten flesh. Eventually, he grew tired of the lifeless thing and stood up to stare at it. It was nothing more than a pile of flesh, bone, and blood. With a huff, he stomped on its skull with his boot, relishing the dull, crunching noise that filled the silence. Though the other demon was still alive, writhing in agony on the ground, he floated back and allowed his swords to finish his work. The blades swept away and stabbed through the demon's feet, their steel points projecting downward and into the soil, fastening it to the ground.

For a long time he floated around the demon, circling it like a vulture as it writhed pathetically. He watched as death began to take its cruel, merciless hold upon the senseless creature. Slowly but surely, its struggles against the swords lessened, until the sound of its roars died to an eerie silence. Finally, the demon moved no more. Dark, red blood pooled around the body. _Cover me! _The swords dislodged from the ground, speckling the air with blood as they obeyed their master's command. Joachim extended his hand to one of the blades and summoned it. His steely eyes darkened with hunger, whilst the tip of the blood-covered sword hovered over his open palm. Droplets of blood fell into his willing hand, staining the pale, white flesh with crimson rain. He pressed his palm against his lips, running his tongue across his unholy flesh to taste the rancid splendor of his carnage. His eyes rolled back in their sockets as a cold, emotionless laugh broke from within his throat. Beautiful, thick, blood rolled down his neck and chest. It stained his hair red when he ran his hand through it, brushing back the pearly white strands when a broad, unyielding smirk replaced his laughter.

Demon blood was far from satisfying to a vampire. The strong, powerful thirst made his fangs ache for more. Before long, he left the earthy beauty of the garden and returned to the gravel road outside the castle. He could sense it was nighttime again in the human realm. Upon reaching the border, his gaze caught sight of a young man riding down the path upon a chestnut colored mare. The figure was dangerously close to Eternal Night and completely unaware of it. With a grin, he sent his swords into the trees whilst attempting to brush off the blood covering his armor. It excited him when he realized the young man was completely oblivious to his presence. _Perfect._

He moved through the trees until he was ahead of the human and found a log by the road to sit down on. His prey would come to him – completely unaware he was about to walk straight into his own death. He waited quietly until the horse's hoof beats resounded through the silence. Just as he expected, the horse sensed him before the human did and abruptly halted upon the path. He listened to the young man attempt to urge the beast forward. The mare flicked her tail and thrashed her head, her dark eyes widening the moment she sighted the pale creature lying in wait. The young man's impatience grew. With a huff, the human tried to spur the animal onward, and dug the heels of his boots into the equine's stomach. The boy's impatient attempts received the opposite effect. With a snort, the mare whinnied and attempted to turn around whilst its rider gave a stubborn yank against the reigns. Finally, when the animal would go no further, the young man slung his leg over the saddle and hopped onto the ground. Joachim watched the human – who appeared to be around the age of eighteen or nineteen – unhitch a lantern hanging from the saddle and withdraw a piece of parchment from a pocket inside his robes. Using the lantern's dim light, the human held the parchment up and ran an index finger across its wrinkled surface whilst a puzzled frown creased the corners of his lips. In the dark, he overheard the young man mutter to himself.

"Creightel was supposed to be the next village…but I have found a forest instead. I should have taken the left path when I came upon that divide in the road…" With a sigh, the human folded the parchment and stuffed it into his robe. He gave the equine an irritated glance and grasped the reigns before trudging ahead. The mare jerked her head back however, with a sharp tug, the young man continued onward. "Perhaps, t'was unwise for me to have purchased such a high strung beast…and this map is no better." The young man grasped the lantern in his other hand and let it swing casually forward and back. With almost child-like amusement, he chuckled to himself and gave the horse another reproachful glance. "Come old girl, stop being so difficult!"

After a few minutes, its orangey glow illuminated his deathly pale figure. The young man halted in and raised the lantern in an attempt to discern who it was. "Who goes there?" The human asked, and his voice abruptly tensed. Joachim could almost taste the young man's blood, for he could hear the sound of his heartbeat quickening, which made the blood in his veins flow faster. He half-expected the human to turn and run away. By all accounts, his ashen skin indicated he was one of the undead. But the young man seemed to ignore it, or at the very least, was ignorant of the telltale sign.

Joachim wheezed, grasping his shoulder with his hand when he slowly turned his head to look at the human's face. His pale, steely eyes took note of the youth's handsome appearance. The human's face still possessed a boyish charm. Bright blue eyes gleamed in the darkness, accompanied by graceful curls of light blonde hair. A true Adonis. One who was most likely popular with women his age but naïve enough to overlook it. It took a great deal of effort for him to avoid smiling, for he was supposed to be in pain. He made a great show of it, closing his eyes and gasping. Twenty years of experience taught him how to appear injured, ill, and weak. Though his voice possessed a twinge of sharpness, he managed to soften it enough to lure the human closer. "I…did not mean to startle you…" He gasped and crumpled forward, his lithe form shaking as he continued. "I…fell off my horse…and seem to have wounded my arm. I cannot walk, for the fall twisted my leg. I did not know what to do, so I simply sat down here, hoping someone would find me, eventually."

"Are you wounded badly?" Despite the human's curiosity, he was sensible enough to keep his distance. The light from the lantern illuminated the dull, red sheen of blood covering his arm and legs. The grisly sight made the youth draw away for a moment, until the sound of his voice lured him back. The mare, however, once again stopped and refused to go any further until the young man gave the reigns a sharp, impatient jerk. Reluctantly, the horse stepped forward, clicking its incisors and flattening its ears upon its head.

"Tis…not as bad as it appears." Joachim coughed then forced a smile – or tried to, for it spread easily across his lips. "My wife is with child and expected to give birth tonight…I was in a hurry…and my horse frightens easily. I suppose a wolf may have startled it, though I know not where the beast went."

The lie worked perfectly. In fact, it worked better than he expected. Perhaps his wan, tired expression appealed for the young man's sympathy. When he pretended to struggle to rise, the youth darted forward to assist him. It was far too easy. Nevertheless, he sensed the human's youth and inexperience contributed to his reaction. The boy had never seen death. He could tell when he looked into his eyes, which were completely ignorant of pain and suffering. "Are you a nobleman, by chance?" The youth asked whilst allowing him to take hold of his arm. The creature's gaze darted to his clothing. Fine robes, leather boots, and a neck scarf made of red silk. He forgot about the fact a human's vocabulary often designated the class in which they belonged.

With a courteous nod, he answered calmly. "I am a lord. Forgive me for not introducing myself. Tis' been a rather long evening, as you can see. My name is-" He paused a moment, trying to think about what he wanted to say. He could not remember his surname. What was it? Armand? Arminster? How could he have forgotten such a thing! He wanted to clamp a hand over his forehead in dismay, though before he could, the young man eagerly spilled the answer.

"Are you an Armster?" He asked. The youth's perceptiveness astonished him. He could barely comprehend what to say until he added. "My family was closely associated with the Armsters. You look so much like Lord Zaeviean I could not resist asking, forgive me for making such an assumption-"

"How clever of you." he answered; trying to hide the fact he was both surprised and impressed behind a veil of pain. "Yes. I am his son, Lord Joachim Armster."

"So, the rumors are true!" The human gasped. His expression, once uncertain, became alight. "They say his son resembles his father. I did not believe it until now. I would be more than willing to assist you, Lord Armster. I regret, this horse is rather excitable, and it could startle again if we attempted ride it."

"Tis' fine, I might yet be able to walk," he muttered impatiently. "Who are you?"

"Oh, I am terribly rude!" The youth's cheeks flushed a vibrant shade of red. Even in the darkness, he could see his embarrassment as he introduced quickly. "Nathaniel Caelan. I am certain you have met my father?"

Oh, indeed, he met him all right. The words 'closely associated' would be better suited as 'closely indebted' to the Armsters. _Stupid boy! I am sick of conversation. This is going nowhere. He truly has no idea what I am. Tis' a shame, for I really would have enjoyed watching him flee in fear. _Fortunately, he did not have to wait much longer. The human escorted him down the road. Joachim limped and winced in pain. Though, he could not deny, his legs might have actually failed him because no longer remembered how to walk properly.

"I wish we met under better circumstances, Lord Armster." The human began, smiling readily at the deathly pale creature grasping his arm. "Tis' a beautiful evening, nonetheless." _Indeed. _He thought. _I doubt, however, you shall think so when I kill you…_ The youth remained unaware, chattering merrily, perhaps attempting to distract him from the pain of his 'fall.' "Coincidentally, I was on my way to Creightel to visit my sister, Jezebel. I was studying in Italy the past year. Are you acquainted with her?"

"Oh yes, how could I forget such a woman." _Her blood tasted sweet on my lips when I slaughtered her like a cow. Filthy whore… _

"She mentioned you in her letters." He continued, smiling as he withdrew a piece of parchment from his pocket and glanced at its contents. A look of uncertainty crossed his face. "I admit…I am worried about her. My sister was supposed to write to me but I never received a letter. I planned to surprise her by returning home earlier than expected. Have you seen her recently? Is she well?"

"She is dying to meet you," Joachim replied. It took a great deal of effort to keep himself composed, though his guise was beginning to wear. At last, he could see the tension in the young man's face whilst he added, carelessly. "You will be joining her soon enough, I'm sure." _In hell, after I rip your beautiful face apart with my bare hands and sink my fangs into your throat. Stupid boy…if you were not so attractive, I would have killed you already. Yet, you have no idea. I hope you like surprises. I know I do._

"I beg your pardon?" The young man stopped abruptly. His once congenial expression faded when his bright blue eyes fell upon the pale creature's smirking expression.

_Perhaps, you are not so stupid after all…but it is too late, now. I was getting bored of you, anyway. Though, I am sure, I can find some excitement from you still. _"Oh, tis' nothing, really." He began and turned to face the stunned young man. The act was over and the curtain was about to fall, drawing their unnecessary little courtship to an end. Icy blue eyes fell upon the human, watching as his fear began to build, whilst he moved in for the kill. No. Not kill – he wanted this one alive…for himself. "I was thinking about ripping your throat out, but then I realized I wanted to hear the sounds of your screams. So, perhaps, I will let you keep it…whist I drink from you tonight."

"_What_?" The youth gasped and pulled away, though the effort was futile. One of his powerful hands snatched the young man by the throat and lifted him up. It was much easier to kill humans than monsters. Most humans did not possess the mindless, aggressive nature of monsters. This one, in particular, was as meek as a newborn lamb. Amidst the sounds of the man's frightened yells, he looked at the face of his Adonis, and traced his eyes across the handsome curves of his cheekbones and neck. He did not want to damage something so gorgeous – at least, not until he was finished with it. Thus, he squeezed the human's jugular just enough to weaken and suffocate him. The young man's cries silenced as his flailing arms fell limp at his side. Between fits of laughter, he grasped the human by the hair and dragged him away, returning to the darkness of Eternal Night.

* * *

Hours later, his human companion awoke, lying on the wooden floorboards of the stage in the theater. The pale creature had seated himself in one of the balconies, watching over his captive until he saw him stir. Like a falcon descending upon its prey, he leapt from the balcony and landed softy upon the floor below. His companion was not fully aware of his surroundings. It was how he wanted it. Coils of the youth's pale, blonde hair fell around his face whilst he lay there, unmoving. The Adonis' beautiful, flowing gold robes fanned around him and across the floorboards. A wealthy young brat with expensive taste, not unlike himself. But wealth mattered little. All naked men looked the same. The human body did not distinguish wealth from poverty or higher class from lower class. The pleasure Joachim would reap from that body was no different, either…

Barely conscious of it all, Joachim tore apart the man's beautiful gold robes until his thirsting eyes fell upon bare flesh. A quiet, though pained moan escaped the human's lips when his body was exposed to the theatre's cold and dusty air. Though his thoughts whirled, the organ between his legs hardened, reminding him that he could still feel _something_. With a feral snarl, he turned the weakened young man over so that the man's front pressed against the dusty floorboards. Foreplay was unnecessary. There were only two things the pale demon wanted, and by the end of it, he would have both. His pale, greedy eyes scanned the young man's gorgeous body. Truly, he had been lucky to find something so worthy of his use. He ran his hands across the human's smooth, sloping back, delighting in the arousal it created within himself. The throbbing organ concealed beneath the whiteness of his britches, demanded gratification. _I hope my master does not become jealous if his servant has a little fun on the side. I have my own needs, too. I only hope this human will live long enough to satisfy them before that wretched Succubus decides to show herself…undoubtedly…she will. _A scowl pressed across his lips as he removed his britches and cast them aside. But he had thought too soon. It did not take him a moment to notice the succubus sitting in one of the balconies overlooking the stage.

Her eyes hungrily watched him from a safe distance. However, upon realizing she had been sighted, she smiled coyly and called out. "Ah, I thought you would be back! And look what you have brought with you! Oh, this is just too good to be true! Perhaps I could assist you-"

"He's mine!" He snapped, baring his teeth when the demon extended her bat-like wings and began to fly about the room.

She cackled at the sight of his naked lower half, eyeing it hungrily whilst calling out again. "Is that so? Don't be so selfish! I thought you might share him with me. But fine, have it your way…"

The warning look in his gaze was enough to keep her away – for the moment. He remembered when such an act meant something to him. He did not know anymore and did not care. He knew what he needed and sought to take it for himself. Always taking, for the only one whom he would give himself to was his lord. Everything else was his. Even the young man, sprawled out naked on the floor, unaware. This beautiful Adonis' pure flesh would be his. He could tell by looking at him that he was as inexperienced as he once was. A smirk crossed his lips as he covered the young man with himself, whilst his finely tipped ears heard the sounds of his screams. The youth tried to crawl away but the creature's superior strength and hunger was too much. Perhaps he would be merciful, in his own, special way. With a broken cry, he sheathed himself inside his prisoner, eager to spoil the innocence lying beneath him. He could feel the man's body trembling, his muscles tensing, as the white-haired demon consumed him. _Now, I truly am the pale rider… _He filled the human with himself and began to thrust, not caring that he had not bothered to prepare his unwilling companion. Blood seeped down the human's legs, staining the floorboards beneath his flailing form crimson. While moving against the human's writhing body, Joachim grasped the base of his neck and pulled his head back. With a snarl, he bit into the tender flesh, relishing the taste of his warm, thick, blood. Although the euphoria made him come, he continued to thrust inside him, knowing he was still hard and hungry.

Joachim suckled upon the man's neck, unhindered by the sight of his Adonis' agonized expression whilst he took what he wanted. The blood rejuvenated him, made him stronger, and allowed his body to thrust harder. He barely knew what he was doing until he came again, losing himself the explosion of pleasure that racked through him faster than wildfire. Blood trickled down the youth's neck and spilled across the dusty floorboards. Joachim ignored the shuddering gasps from the dying man pinned beneath his beautiful, milky white flesh. The voraciousness of his appetite was impossible to fulfill. Only when he removed his fangs did he realize that his companion was not moving. He prodded the man's back with his fingernail and withdrew himself. _Damn! I suppose mortals are frail…as I once was. _

Like a scavenger, the succubus flew toward him, eager to fulfill the need the human failed to satisfy before dying. He rubbed the accursed organ, feeling the sticky wetness of the tip against his probing fingers until he began to pump against its shaft with his hand. The pleasure it enticed within his body made him gasp. He threw his head back, allowing the damp strands of his silky white hair to cascade against his shoulders whilst he worked against his stubbornly hard erection. From the corner of his eye, he caught the succubus attempting to surprise him from behind. She wrapped her lithe, supple arms around his torso and ran her slippery tongue across his chest. He was approaching his release, and thankful for the fact it would come before she could subdue him. The friction of his hand increased until, at last, he spattered the floorboards with his corrupted seed. A moan escaped his lips and he fell back against the demon behind him.

The succubus embraced him, unwilling to release him so easily from her grasp. But he did not show any interest or resistance, even when she pressed him against the floor and positioned herself on top of him. It did not take long for his hardness to return. He was barely conscious of his own body, even as it pierced her and he began to move, feeling everything with him drain away whilst she laughed and rocked, eager to take advantage of his weary state. He ran his fingers through her long, silky blonde hair, immersing himself in the scent of roses. The succubus was an agile lover, skilled at producing pleasure in every way imaginable, even from the pale creature who felt nothing at all. He gasped as he moved within her, and felt her tighten around him, ready to accept him when nothing else would. Amidst his moans, his blood-stained lips formed a smirk.

_I look forward to our next encounter, master…_


	28. Chapter 28: Abduction

**Author's Note: **After a long absence, I have finally found time to upload another chapter for this story. I apologize for not updating Melancholia for a while. School has been pretty hectic but I have no intention of leaving this story unfinished. Hopefully, this chapter will keep you interested. This is Sara'a first appearance and I plan to flesh out her character a bit more in the next few chapters, though don't expect me to portray her necessarily as a helpless 'damsel in distress' even though she is kind and gentle. If you wondered what happened at Eternal Night while Sara was imprisoned and how I will tie Joachim into the LoI plotline, you will find out, eventually. :)

This chapter contains some sex, violence, and gore (this is an M rated story, after all)

**Special Thanks**

As always, thank you for reading this story if you are still following it and I really appreciate it when people take time to review my work. I know it is long but I intended it to be the length of a novel in order to develop the plot and characters. Very special thanks go to the people who have reviewed this story and patiently waited for another update. I will try to update a bit faster next time. :D Reviews help me keep this story going since the comments I receive let me know people are still reading it.

**Chapter XXVIII**

It was not long before he returned to the path beyond the border of the forest. The pale demon floated along it, his robes fanning around him as he went. The last two copulations made his thirst stronger. The full moon was high in the sky and the night was especially cold. His breaths escaped into the crisp air in thick, swirling puffs as his pale eyes searched through the darkness.

Suddenly, a noise startled him and made him hesitate. The creature's eyes drifted to the trees, a twinge of fear reflecting through their glassy pools upon noticing that something was watching him. A gasp fled his lips when a large black bird perched in a tree branch above his head. The bird's tiny dark eyes blinked at him. The pale moonlight reflected off its glossy feathered form as it opened its beak and released a loud, haunting cry.

"No! Impossible!" Joachim cried out and covered his face with his hands, nearly stumbling backward as the bird cocked its head and stared down at him. "Get away from me!" To his growing dismay, the bird's cold, merciless eyes continued to stare at him until he turned to flee. "Get away!" Despite his demand, he could hear it pursing him, its large, black wings blocking out the moonlight and casting an eerie shadow across the road. "Stop! I'm not a monster...!"

Its feathered body quickly landed upon his shoulder, the talon-like grip of its feet digging through his robes and flesh as it cawed in his ear. The pale creature nearly fell during his attempt to swat the beast away with his hand. Yet, the bird's powerful, hard beak snapped and pecked at his fingers until blood covered his hands. "Leave me alone!" He screamed into the darkness as the bird's snapping beak began to attack his face, tearing out his left eye from its socket with a single, swift prod. Blood flowed down his face as his hands flew to protect his other eye whilst pains seared through him like fire. "Leave me alone! I am not a monster, _I am not dead_!"

The nightscape around him began to spin, distorting his vision as the bird unfurled its wings and flapped against his face. With a feral roar, he regained his composure enough to summon his swords. The five glowing blades lifted away from their alignment behind his back, their metallic steel forms shooting past him to stab at the animal perched on his shoulder. Before the blades could reach it, the bird released a series of loud, unearthly cries and dove into the trees. "You can't escape!" Rage bubbled inside him like a volcano whilst he sent his swords into the trees after it, watching them pursue the fiend's feathered form when it flew amidst the branches and disappeared. "Where are you?" Joachim screamed after it, bearing his fangs as the aura surrounding his levitating body intensified. The creature's pale eyes scanned the trees, desperately trying to locate the feathered brute but finding nothing. Only the silence of the night returned his confrontation. Panting, he pressed his hand upon his wounded eye – and withdrew it to find it completely clean. His fingers raked across his face, feeling for the warm sensation of his own blood and his missing eye. Yet, his vision was uninhibited and his eye was undamaged. _What is happening to me? I saw it! I saw that crow, wings of death, fighting to drag me into hell! It was there watching me! Perhaps it still is...toying with me...waiting to feast upon my lifeless body..._

But there was nothing. The bird had vanished completely. The pale youth glanced over his shoulder, his wide eyes searching for a sign of the feathered beast whilst his finely tipped ears listened for its cries. There was only silence. More than anything in the world he feared crows. He hated the sight of them, their feathered bodies, obnoxious cries, and scavenging habits. _They are waiting to devour me...! I can feel it watching me. The hellish crow...shall not have me, for I am not dead...not dead...not a monster...not inhuman..._

The sounds of hoof beats and carts echoed ahead of him up the road, interrupting his whirling thoughts. A tiny smirk flashed across his ashen lips as he dove into the nearby trees for cover. After a few minutes, a large procession of carts, carriages and footmen appeared upon the path. Several serfs hurried along beside the carriages carrying blankets and weapons. The sheer number of them was telling enough that they were escorting someone of great importance, perhaps a cardinal or a lord between domains. Yet, it mattered little to the creature hiding in the trees. Blood was blood, no matter whose it was. There were at least ten serfs and fifteen guards surrounding the carriage and two supply carts. It was common for lords to travel. Some spent so much time as guests in other manors that they rarely saw their own.

_Time to play the sickly lord once again. Tis' pathetic how well it works. _He lowered his levitation and pretended to limp across the pathway in front of the approaching soldiers. When their eyes fell upon on him, he deliberately allowed his feet to give way until he collapsed onto his side across the dirt. "Who goes there?" One of the guards abruptly motioned for the carriage and carts to halt. The man's metallic armour gleamed in moonlight as he approached, his voice firming at the sight of the pale, blood-covered youth sprawled across the ground. "You there! What are you doing?" The guard withdrew his sword and signalled for the others to follow.

Feigning a grimace, the creature raised his head and held his hand out in front of him as if to shield himself from their weapons. "I am Lord Armster…" he rasped, delighting in the astonishment that flooded across the guard's moustached face when he added. "I was hunting in this forest…when a group of bandits attacked and robbed me…."

"Bandits?" The guard dumbly repeated the word whilst the others remained silent, too shocked by the sight of the bloody nobleman to speak. "The matters in this region are none of our concern, milord."

"How dare you refuse to assist me!" Joachim snarled, his eyes blazing, though with a twinge of delight rather than fury. The gruesome look upon his face was enough to make the soldiers hesitate. A wounded young lord was nothing to scoff at. Refusing to obey one, even though it was not theirs, was capable of instigating political conflict. "Are you all cowards? I require your services!"

"We have none to give!" The guard retorted with a hint of repugnance in his voice. The pale creature was uncertain of whether or not the man suspected him of being dead. Thankfully, the darkness made it difficult for the guard to see him clearly. The only sign of his unnatural condition was his colorless flesh. "We are traveling through this region, milord. Our obligations are to Lady Raynberde."

_Its too bad. I thought this would be fun… _A scowl swept across the pale youth's face as he glared up at the guard, stabbing him with his dagger-like eyes. The youth forced himself to his feet and lifted his hand, preparing to summon his swords from within the trees until the door of the carriage swung open. A thin young woman stepped out into the darkness. Her long, elaborate dark blue dress swept with her quick, bold steps as she approached the scene, startling the guards with her terse inquiry. "What is the meaning of this?" She placed her hands upon her hips as her fine, ruby painted lips curled into a frown. "Tis' the middle of the night and I am quite tired! I ordered you not to stop-" She was halfway through her lecture when she paused, her dark brown eyes falling upon the pale creature.

"We found this young man lying upon the road," The moustached guard made a point of ushering to the creature as if fearing that the lady, in her anger, would doubt him. "He claims to be of the Armster clan, and informed us that he was attacked by bandits while hunting. I doubt the validity of his story, milady. Let us continue onward and leave him be-"

"Absolutely not!" The woman's sharp eyes scrutinized the pale youth carefully. The sight of his long, beautiful robes and armour indicated his important social position. Joachim looked up at her face, hungrily noting to himself that the young woman standing before him was quite lovely. _I am going to enjoy drinking from you, especially. _Without hesitating, the woman snapped. "You fool! He is most certainly an Armster. Lord Zaeviean appeared in my court two years ago. I could never forget his unusual ivory hair and skin. This young lord is most certainly his son, for any other could not have inherited such a rare condition." A smile creased the corners of her lips as she turned her attention upon him. Joachim felt her eyes scan him until she dropped her head and made a low, courteous bow. "Lord Armster, please forgive my attendant's ridiculous indiscretion. Are you injured?"

Joachim knew what that smile meant. _I am certain you could never forget 'other' things about my father, as well… _"I will be all right," he replied, pretending to struggle to stand as he continued. "I am surprised you knew my father, though that matter can wait. Those brutes stole my hunting bow and horse. When I discover who t'was, I shall punish them severely!"

"Tis' dreadful, milord!" The woman exclaimed, shaking her head. "Such Godless men deserve to be hanged! Unlike my attendant, I shall not leave a nobleman at the mercy of thieves and scoundrels. I am travelling northward to the estate of Lord Trantoul, who shall be able to assist you in this matter. Do you know his family?"

"No, I do not, though I am grateful for your assistance." He lied. The name was familiar to him in many ways. His timing could not have been more ideal. It pleased him when he realized he could enjoy a meal before kidnapping the lady chosen by fate. He suspected the procession was due in part to the fact that the lord's betrothed daughter would marry within a week. _It seems, Lord Trantoul will be short a few guests at the wedding…and a bride as well… _

The woman motioned for the soldiers to escort him into the carriage, her eyes giving an extra sharp glance at the moustached solider that had refused to aid him. "Lord Armster shall accompany me in my carriage."

"But, milady-" The guard attempted to interject, however the woman's insistence made him fall silent.

"You will do as I say!" She snapped, ruffling the long skirt of her dress as one of her attendants took her hand and helped her into the carriage. "Insolent fool, do not question me again."

For whatever reason, the pale demon could not help but admire her resolve. _Tis' almost a shame I have to kill such a presumptuous lady. Though I know her kind, for my father rather enjoyed her type in his bedchambers. Perhaps, I shall receive a little more than blood, tonight…_

The youth brushed aside a few strands of his silky ivory hair whilst he limped toward the carriage, barely managing to stand since walking was no longer a regular habit. The moment the moustached guard attempted to grasp him by the arm to assist him, he violently shoved the man away and hissed like an angry serpent. "Don't _ever_ touch me, wretch!" The guard bowed his head, attempting to apologize as the pale moved by him without a backward glance. _I will deal with you, later. _He allowed one of the woman's servants to hold the carriage door for him as he climbed inside, making a show of his injured state by gasping for breath.

To his delight, the lady seated inside the carriage got up and took him by the arm, allowing him to sit next to her as she drew the privacy curtains across the carriage's windows. "Are you certain you are all right, Lord Armster?" She asked, her brown eyes blinking at him in the dark compartment. The benches were lined with expensive blue velvet only someone with immense wealth could afford.

With a gentle, though somewhat chilling smile, the youth nodded and crossed his legs. The loftiness he displayed seemed to ease her concern, for she returned his smile as he replied coolly. "I am fine, now that I am in the presence of respectable company, such as yourself, lady…?" Though he knew he was capable of killing her any time he wanted, he was interested in seeing just how 'respectable' the woman truly was. In another life, which seemed so distant, he remembered mingling with women of her class. Parties…tapestries…delicacies…despite their familiarity, such things were trivial to him, now.

The woman bowed her head, her voice filling with confidence when she answered his question. "I am Lady Gertrude Raynberde. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Lord…?"

"Joachim. Joachim Armster." His pale blue eyes glinted with relief when his name rolled smoothly off his tongue.

He noticed the woman's eyes widen in response whilst she leaned back in her seat. At that moment, he took a bit of time to observe her. The woman's long, auburn hair was secured into an elaborate bun held in place by several gold pins. Her face was thin, and her skin pale, a typical fashion for most women of her class. The woman had most certainly never worked a day in her life, for her hands were soft and free of calluses and scars. The long, shimmering fabric of her dark blue dress fanned around her like waves in a sea. Though beautiful, there was a kind of deadliness in her mannerisms, not unlike a python ready to lash out at any moment – though restricting her bite to other ladies of similar calibre. A gossip, undoubtedly, though the most dangerous kind. She was a woman who preferred to light the match and allow another to use it to start a fire. Without the slightest hesitation, she began. "I knew your father. Lord Armster was quite possibly the most fearsome man I have ever met. If his eyes could kill, no heathen would be left alive, and the church would have made him a Saint!"

"It seems everyone knew my father." Joachim muttered under his breath. It did not surprise him to realize that the man's memory followed him like a plague.

"Of course they did." She exclaimed, her eyes brightening the longer they admired at his pale face and ashen hair. "I believe Lord Armster's fighting abilities saved him from the pyre. The church does not take kindly to men with white hair and pale skin. Your resemblance to your father is astonishing."

"I wish that were not so." He nearly snarled, though managed to hold his tone of politeness whilst he elaborated quickly. "I inherited all of my father's assets and land recently, though I regret, I have not yet decided what shall be done with them."

"Perhaps your wife can advise you?" The woman raised an eyebrow.

"I am unmarried." Joachim replied, ensuring that there was a twinge of sadness present in his voice. Like a fisherman casting his net, he watched the woman's eyes widen.

The smile pressed across her ruby lips broadened whilst she slid closer to him, looking up at him with a regretful sigh, which he knew she had practiced. "Tis' a shame. Do you not get lonely, Lord _Joachim_ Armster?"

As if surprised by her question, he shook his head uncertainly, feeling her hand cover his while the words dripped off his lips. "Occasionally, though I am afraid my appearance has made finding a wife quite difficult. I inherited my father's albinism and am chronically ill."

"How tragic, milord." He noticed her move closer to him, unconcerned by the fact that his hand was cold and his skin was as white as snow. The youth's gleaming eyes watched her hand lift and gently touch his cheek, her face reddening from her bold gesture. When he did not pull away she looked at him directly in the eyes. Despite his air of indifference, he could hear her heartbeat quickening and detected the blood in her veins flowing faster beneath her skin when she touched him. The warmth of her hand contrasted with his icy eyes and flesh. Nevertheless, unhindered by it, she continued quietly. "Tis' a long journey to Brendelham. Perhaps, you will be bored. All conversations between lords and ladies are the same, after a time. The same petty introductions, wit, and candour – though enjoyable it is hardly sustaining, Lord Armster."

"What an interesting sentiment." He replied, half interested and half bored. She must have used the same clever line several times before, for her ease in speaking it was revealing. Despite the luxurious benches adorning the inside of the carriage, the cramped quarters merely enhanced his hunger. With a proud flick of his hand, he allowed his lips to form a smirk. "Though tis' late, I am not tired."

"Whatever shall we do, then?" The lady returned his smirk. He felt her draw nearer to him still, until her face was within inches of his. The woman's regal visage was smooth and graceful, her ruby lips like the petals of a rose, and her voice like a soft wind in his ear. "Your father was a very skilled man...with many talents. I wonder if you are like him in that aspect, Lord Armster. I would not mind discovering if my intuition is correct."

"If you want to know, come closer." The pale creature placed his arms on either side of her shoulders while turning to face her. Curtains of pearly white locks cascaded against his smooth, elegant visage as he pressed himself against her and covered her lips with his own. The woman attempted to gasp in surprise, though it was lost in the powerful, forceful touch of his lips. The youth's claw-like fingernails raked through her auburn hair, loosening the pins until it tumbled across her sloping neck and shoulder blades. He wound his tongue into her mouth, tasting her depths before he broke their kiss. The woman's brown eyes were wide, her moist lips parting as he lowered his face to her neck and kissed the warm, tender flesh.

He felt her pulse thumping rapidly against his cold, sallow lips as she let out a soft, appreciative moan. "We…do not have much time, milord. Let us not be discovered."

"I understand, milady." He smiled at her again, knowing her wish would be granted far sooner than she expected. In accordance with her whim, he grasped the flowing, blue skirt of her dress and hiked it up to her hips, exposing her undergarments as she lifted her legs and allowed him to remove them. His hands snaked across the woman's warm, curving thighs and hips, feeling the life he was prepared to drain away. As his icy hands explored her legs, she grasped his britches and slid them down to his ankles. _How I love playing with my food! This one definitely cares not for lady-like expectations. If it is this easy to obtain her, tis' no wonder why my father chose her company. _Joachim's lips returned to steal another kiss as his fingers wandered to her entrance, feeling the slippery wetness of her arousal. Whilst her lips locked with his, he buried his fingers inside her opening, taking little consideration if his nails caught and ripped the tender flesh. Any pain she may have experienced disappeared as he began to rub her soft moist warmth, listening to her gasp and moan in his ear while he pleasured her. The moment he discovered her sweet spot, he pressed his hand across her mouth to stifle her moans. He was not gentle with her, for he felt no need to be, as she would soon experience even worse pain.

After subduing her with his fingers, he straddled himself above her, pressing her into the carriage's narrow seat. The woman's hand glided to his erection, about to massage it until he lifted her hips and felt her legs wrap around his lower back. Although the long, flowing fabric of her skirt threatened to inhibit him, he pushed it back as the hard, throbbing organ between his legs found her entrance. The woman's head fell back, her auburn hair cascading across her shoulders and back. Her flowing dress prevented him from seeing himself enter her, though he knew he had when warmth of her body stretched to accommodate his embedded organ. A gasp escaped through the woman's ruby lips, which for a moment, resembled the color of blood as he moved his hips forward and back in a rocking motion. The jostling carriage did not inhibit his actions in the least, though he kept his hand across her mouth to stifle her moans as he began to thrust. There was no tenderness when he took her, despite the soft, ferventness of her lips when she kissed him. The young nobleman barely let out a gasp of pleasure as he pounded against her with his frail, ashen body, feeling a deadness consume him when he could not climax. The woman seemed to suspect it, for the youth's hard, fast, rhythm lasted for nearly half an hour without relenting. Beads of perspiration slid down the side of the lady's face, matting her auburn hair and tinting her fair cheeks a rosy pink. Though she was tiring, he continued to thrust himself inside her rapidly, barely conscious of the force in which he moved until he saw her wince in pain. "You're…hurting me…!" She gasped, though her words were muffled beneath his hand.

Without looking at her, he slid his lips across her chest until he listened to her heart pounding against her ribcage. The creature lifted his face away and parted his lips, allowing her to glimpse at his gleaming fangs as he continued to grind against her, thrusting forcefully until streams of blood begin trickling down her legs. The woman's eyes pooled with tears as her voice fought through the sounds of his panting and gasping breaths. "What…are you? Stop…!" Joachim felt her writhe beneath him as her hands pushed against his armored chest, unsuccessfully attempting to knock him away. However, his superior strength and power easily overcame her. With a sardonic smirk, he pushed his offending organ deeper inside her. The fierce, unbridled force of his thrusts increased until her hand lifted to strike him across the face. He caught her wrist in his hand and snapped it like a twig, hearing the bones crack and give way under his vice-like grip. The woman's eyes widened into saucers, her voice stolen away when he replaced her pleasure with agony. The creature's nails dug into her hips until they bled, his eyes glazing with delight as he thrust inside her without care.

His mind was in haze from which he could not find an escape, for nothing was clear to him except the blood rushing beneath the woman's fair flesh. The pale creature continued to impale her as he lowered his face to her neck, pressing his lips upon it, and ignoring her tossing head as she sought to free herself from his entrapment. With a feral snarl, his merciless fangs punctured through her flesh, rewarding his effort with blood. The crimson liquid flowed from the wound with terrifying ease until lapped it up like a savage beast. A red tint appeared within his once pale blue eyes while her blood gushed down his throat. The sensation of it made him gasp as the euphoria it created within his pale, thrusting body finally drove him to a climax. Loud, rapturous moans fled his throat, gurgled slightly by blood as he ejaculated and suffocated her against his cold, lifeless body. The woman's form fell limp beneath him when he slid out. Only when he noticed that her eyes were glassy and still did he realize she was dead. _I hope killing them during the act will not become habitual…._

With a huff, he grabbed his britches and pulled them up, casting his eyes away from the woman's lifeless form. The jostling carriage halted - alerted by the noise and scuffling within it. Within moments, a guard flung the door open, his face a mask of horror at the sight of the woman's shriveled, half-naked corpse slumped against the seat. "Dear God!" The guard's hand flew to unsheathe his sword. Yet, the vampire he discovered was much faster by far. Joachim's claw-like hand quickly snatched the man by the throat and pulled him inside the compartment.

"Good evening!" Loud, unbridled laughter escaped his throat as he pulled the guard toward him and ripped off his helmet. "It was kind of the lady to give me ride, though unfortunately, she could not make it all the way."

"You vicious bastard!" The guard rasped, in spite of the youth's talon-like grip upon his throat.

"Shut up!" The creature hissed, knowing his time was running out. Footsteps sounded across the road, followed by shouts and screams of alarm. Blood trickled down the corners of his lips as he dragged the man's neck forward and bit down upon the flesh. Streams of blood flowed down his throat but he knew he could not feed for long. After only a moment, he withdrew his fangs and dropped the dead guard on the bench next to the woman. The fact the corpses were sitting upright made it appear as if the guard had fallen asleep against the woman next to him. The sight made Joachim burst into laughter, whilst his eyes wildly flew to the carriage door, seeking an escape. With the speed of a falcon, he swept out of the compartment and emerged into the darkness beyond. The moment his pale, bloody form appeared in full view, serfs, servants, and guards ran in all directions. In an effort to defend himself, he summoned his swords from within the trees, for they had been following the carriage under the power of his mind. The sheer number of people made a solo assault difficult. He concentrated his powers and began to let them build. Two guards lunged at him, brandishing their swords, ready to cut his head off until he ducked to avoid their swinging blades. He snatched one of the guards with his hand, burying his fangs into his jugular and, with a snarl, ripped out the man's esophagus. Blood poured down his face, neck, and chest armor as he carelessly tossed the body away.

Blood dripped down his chin whilst Joachim focused his thoughts, feeling his power strengthen and form around him into circular shapes. With a swift wave of his hand, he sent the three glowing blue spheres across the pathway far apart from each other. Then, to his growing amazement, his five, whirling swords reunited with him and floated slowly around his body – shielding him behind an invisible barrier. It was his only means of defense against so many humans. Guards ran toward him to attack, swinging their swords, until the metallic edge of the blades bounced off his telekinetic shield. "Humans!" He sneered, and his eyes narrowed in disgust. His mind was focused to the point that he only had to picture how to attack. The thoughtless, rage inside him had a will to stab his assailants to death. In accordance, massive glowing yellow blades suddenly projected upward from the ground, stabbing some of the guards so suddenly they did not realize what happened before they died. The merciless blades sliced through three men and severed them completely in half. Their remains crumpled to the ground in a spray of blood, barely even recognizable amidst the sight of entrails and bone. Intestines lay over the dirt like tangled ropes. The stench of blood almost overpowered him as he floated through the scene of death.

Most humans tried to flee and hide. Even the remaining guards turned away and sought to escape the glowing yellow blades projecting erratically from the ground. A few humans attempted to hide themselves in the supply carts, hoping the pale demon would not notice them. He drifted toward the doors of the first cart he came across and flung it open with the violence of a devil, his voice calling to them mockingly. "You can't hide from me, lowly humans. Come out, come out, wherever you are! I look forward to stabbing your pathetic bodies to death…!" As he expected, most remained in their hiding places like rats trapped in a cage. Many serfs tried hiding behind wine casks and barrels stacked upon each other in the cart. Without hesitating, he eyed the wooden objects and sent his blades forth. _Find them, and kill them! Kill every single one of them! _The blades stabbed through the barrels, impaling the humans hiding behind them through their chests and heads. The wooden barrels gave way when the swords rammed completely through. Blood pooled around the base, mixing with the wine until neither were distinguishable. When his swords removed themselves and returned to their slow, casual encirclement around him, at least ten bodies fell into a mangled heap behind the broken casks.

Carnage surrounded him everywhere he looked. Blood flowed across the pathway in rivers, for no one had escaped the powerful, cruel edge of his swords. The only things he left alive were the horses still secured to their carriages and carts, until he broke their fastenings and watched them gallop madly into the trees. Adrenaline pumped through him like bolts of lighting as he hovered, surveying the bloody scene with his unblinking, icy gaze. Bodies were strewn everywhere to the point that the path beneath them was barely visible amidst their blood and remains. The full moon haunting the night sky above made the pools of crimson shine under its sad, pale light. With a contented sigh, he broke his concentration and watched as the three glowing blue orbs dissipated into nothing. Although he still craved blood, there was no one left to fight or kill. The youth gave a last repugnant sneer before he turned away and blew a whistling song into the air. The sound drifted across the lonely nightscape, echoing far into the distance like a demon's serenade.

In response, a faint, whinny cry echoed through the enclosing darkness. Within moments, the glowing form of his silver stallion bounded through the trees, its transparent body solidifying under the touch of its master's blood-covered hand upon its back. "Cojiro." The equine raised its head upon hearing its master speak its name, catching the scent of blood upon his breath. The beast's dainty ears flattened upon its head as Joachim mounted its back. He was still adjusting to the fact that his horse was a vampire. It seemed absurd, yet his gaze caught sight of the beast's pointed fangs. Despite the animal's innocent appearance, if anyone tried approaching it, their throats would be torn out by its gnashing incisors. A strange white film covered the horse's once black eyes. The ironclad silver heels of his boots urged it into a gallop. Its hooves flew across the ground as it galloped down the road and carried him toward a small settlement of houses in the distance. The night wind whipped at his face, lashing against his ashen cheeks as the once wet blood covering him began to cake and dry.

* * *

In the middle of small, rundown homes, was a manor so large it rivaled his own. The manor was constructed from stone and donned with numerous large windows, the largest of which surrounded the top floor to reveal the structure's great hall. A wide rounded archway lined the entrance to the large building, and the greenery of ivy grew up the length of the building's walls and window frames. He guided his horse toward the back of the manor and hid himself in the trees.

The young woman belonged to a wealthy family. Indeed, it did not take him much to realize it, for the manor was grand in design. If he wanted to, he could have broken the fine wooden doors securing the entrance and killed any humans he encountered. Far too many times, he had pillaged and murdered anyone in his way. A quiet seizure was necessary, despite his thirst for blood. The more attention he drew to himself, the greater danger he created for his master. Dalwood and Creightel had already fallen. If a third cleansing occurred, it was only a matter of time before the Church got involved.

On the second level of the manor was a large, round balcony. The balcony was constructed from the finest marble. Beyond its elaborate railing was a large doorframe covered with thin, white curtains. The shadow was of a young woman, and despite the wary shame in his gaze, he witnessed her naked silhouette moving within. Joachim's gaze darted toward the vague image of her slender form for brief intervals, gazing at the supple inviting curvatures of her breasts while she changed her attire. _It's too bad I have to keep her alive. Betrothed to a knight! A virgin, to be sure, for a husband of such caliber would expect no less._

Within a moment, the young creature of interest emerged into view. The young woman approached the balcony and stood there for his eyes to feast upon, and not even the shadows of the night could conceal her delicate form and the gentle smile upon her lips. Locks the color of deep chocolate brown fell against her shoulders, part of her hair was styled up to form small ornate buns on either side of her head, kept in place with fine pearls wrapping them in their circular shapes. The woman wore clothing so fine he could tell it was custom made, for covering her was a beautiful light blue vest trimmed with white down the middle and along the collar, which complimented the fine ebony buttons securing it. Beneath the vest she wore a dress that hid her modest feet from view beneath a sea of ripping snow white. Light sky blue ribbon matching the color of her vest formed a crisscrossing design down the sleeves of her dress, and as if to complete it, a gold circlet encrusted with rubies adorned her forehead.

She was the angelical, and unearthly innocence his tainted soul aspired to obtain. By all accounts she appeared incapable of harming even the smallest creature on earth, and as gentle as a fawn still exploring the world with an innocent and new outlook on the virtues of life. Joachim watched her stand near the railing of the balcony and survey the nightscape. She whirled at the sound of a voice calling to her from the other side of the curtained door.

"Lady Sara! It well passed the hour of which a lady should be resting. I have laid your garments out for the next morn, do you wish to see them now?" The voice sounded so familiar he froze from the tone the second it filled his ears. He stepped forward within the trees until the young maiden's reply was made. Her voice sounded so sweet it would have rivaled even that of sirens, enchanting him to the point that he fell completely still.

"I am grateful; however, I wish to look at the stars for a few more moments. I would be pleased if you joined me."

"As you wish, milady."

Before Joachim could collect his thoughts, the face that matched the voice emerged into view and stepped behind the young lady's frame. He stared without a word to meet his whirling thoughts, which increased from listening to the sound of the young lady's voice. "Tis' such a pleasant evening. Why, it invokes much thought in what God created in this universe. Perhaps Isis sailed through the sky on a starry night like this, for if the Egyptians believe their Gods were capable, I wonder if Jesus could have done so as well."

He noted the curious tone within her sweetness, as he did both the appearance and the sound of the woman standing at her side. The woman was older, at least middle aged, with thick carrot colored hair tied back in a long elegant braid, and wore a simple, gray dress compared to the young maiden.

Her voice was soft, and nothing in the world could mistaken her as he remembered from his past. "Of course Jesus sailed through the stars, our lord is capable of infinite abilities – if he could walk on water then nothing was out of his reach." A soft smile met her reply while she continued to address the young lady dotingly.

"I am afraid that may not be so." The sweet voice of the lady Sara had quickly fallen into a slight damper that left Joachim even more stunned than he was since he arrived. He watched the maiden turn, and noticed her gentle smile feigned. "If God gave me the gift of choice, I am still awaiting an answer to why I feel I have none. It is too soon, Anneliese. I have my doubts regarding my union with Leon. I have only spoken with him three times, and already I am to become his wife." Her frame seemed to strain with her doubt, though the servant woman rested a hand on her shoulder in reassurance, while the other stroked the fine contours of the lady's cheeks like a mother comforting a lost child.

"My lady," the servant replied. "Believe in him for he is an honorable young man and an ideal suitor."

"Yes, indeed he is. My father insists I comply with his wishes, especially since nothing would give me reason to doubt the Baron." She gave a soft sigh that barely parted from her dainty lips, and her eyes closed to linger upon her words. "…I must appease my father, for he has been good to me, and it is clear I must not disappoint him by refusing a man worthy of my hand."

"My lady, you shall never disappoint anyone. I have known you since you were a child. I was able to watch you become a fine young lady. It makes me wonder what became of the one whom I raised before you. Ah, he must have faced much in his life without me…" the servant's voice trailed, and made Joachim intake a deep breath despite not needing to. His memory became clear regarding whom she spoke of, and he was all too familiar with the servant separated from him before he could fulfill her wonderment. At least fate had been somewhat kind to her, and to find her at that particular estate when she could have been sent to numerous other ones was more than he expected to discover.

"What do you mean?" The young lady's inquisitive tone heightened from her servant's cryptic words. "Tell me, Anneliese, for you have rarely spoken of your previous household."

The servant gave a weak smile. "Well milady, it has been ten years since I laid eyes upon the child. Though he was an ill boy, he was much stronger than even he imagined possible."

Joachim's eyes were locked on her expression, which remained fixated in a sort of saddened gaze directed outward into the night. Her appearance was so pensive he felt like she was looking in his direction as if knowing he was listening; however such a notion was one created by wishful thinking.

"I am grateful for all you have done during your services here, and I assure you I think highly of you despite my mother's criticisms. No matter what the circumstance, I shall persevere. Perhaps I do not have much faith in marriage." The young woman continued to smile, and it broadened the moment the servant gave another affectionate stroke over her cheek.

"Lady Sara, you are wise."

"You flatter me too much." Her delicate reply lightened once again while the servant turned toward the door and brushed back the curtains. The young maiden paused as if to accompany the servant, though added in a softer voice he could barely hear from where he stood. "Today I received a letter from Baron Belmont. Leon has vowed to come for me as soon as he can; however, he is currently on his way to visit Lord Cronqvist, who lost his wife only a year ago."

She paused for a moment, and appeared to be collecting her thoughts in watch of the servant's brief departure inside, but not without continuing in a more serious tone that still retained the unmistakable sweetness in her voice. "Lord Cronqvist is a respectable man but he is unwell. Baron Belmont informed me in his letter that he is concerned. Though, it would be unreasonable of me to delay the wedding. I know Leon needs me now, more than ever…"

The servant appeared once again from within the curtains carrying a beautiful long white wedding gown that trailed well onto the floor and was lined with gold fabric around the low scooping collar and delicate puffed white sleeves that were so subtly created they did not overwhelm the garment itself. "What do you think of your wedding dress, milady? Have you grown fond of it yet?"

The young woman turned away and gazed out into the night in silence. She closed the delicate lids of her eyes and revealed the thick but fine darkness of her eyelashes. For a moment, she remained as still as a porcelain doll, until her eyes glanced passively at the flowing white dress. "It is beautiful." The woman's lips trembled whilst she turned her head away, her sleek brown hair rippling against her delicate cheeks. A gentle sigh parted through her lips as a dim, though visible, sadness reflected within her eyes.

"For your wedding day, I will make you a wreath of red carnations and have a priest bless them.

If you do not have love, at least retain your hope and faith in God."

"I shall always have love, not just for the man I marry, but for all people no matter what their status is. The world must always have love above every other virtue, even that of purity, for without love life is meaningless. Perhaps my feelings for Leon will grow in time. I know the Baron loves me dearly. Since the day we met, he spoke of how much he appreciated my company. I understand, for he has fought bravely and endured death and hardship. Leon was swift to ask my father for my hand; for he told me he wished to spend his life with none other than the woman dearest to his heart. War has not destroyed Leon's kind and selfless heart. Marrying him…is the least I can do after he gave me his love and devotion. I…apologize for burdening you with my childishness and uncertainties, Anneliese…" The soft smile once again spread across her graceful ruby lips, and her eyes darted away from the night to linger upon the doorframe. The servant disappeared inside, however before she moved to follow she hesitated in place and stood still once again, lowering her head so the two fine strands of her chocolate colored locks curtained around her cheeks in a rippling array. Joachim watched her unblinkingly until she parted back the curtains and disappeared within.

He levitated forward to leave his hiding place in the trees but paused to press a hand against his chin. The youthful curvatures of his face darkened whilst he floated in solitude, brooding within himself and engraining the image of the lady within his mind's eye. Even if he attempted to erase it from his thoughts, he could not cease picturing her gentle smile. The silver lining his armor shimmered under the moonlight, and with his purple aura it was clear the time he spent in concealment would be limited before someone was bound to notice his presence on the grounds of the estate. _Such an innocent little lamb, perfect for slaughter. My master shall enjoy spoiling this one. Unless, of course, I take her first. I bet I could make her moan louder than Walter…_

He slinked out of the trees and drifted toward the large manor. When he reached building's wall he hid himself between the large windows lining the base of the structure directly below the balcony. Joachim tilted his head and looked upward toward the night sky. Within moments, his pale eyes locked upon the growth of ivy climbing high up the wall beside him.

A steady smirk wielded its way across his dried lips, and with yet another soft swish he flew toward the ivy and began his ascent. The architecture of the manor appeared hundreds of years old, and the ivy growing up its walls appeared similar in age. With slow motions, his hands gripped onto the various ivy branches that he used as support for climbing higher. The branches were thick enough that they supported what little weight he provided, since even as he climbed, he barely let his weight sit atop the foliage. Once he was within a foot from the railing he let go of the ivy, and when it appeared he would tumble down to a horrid fate, he doubled his inner power to send himself hurtling overtop the railing. He made not a sound when he descended onto the cold marble surface. He reached out and ran his hand lightly across, his long claw-like black fingernails dancing across the fluttering fabric curtaining the doorway. With the full moon as his backdrop, his silhouette darkened the pure, white veils concealing the lady's chamber.

The room was no less elaborate than the house itself, with numerous fine furnishings and paintings upon the walls. His main focus was at the opposite side of the room where the bed was situated, as well as the young woman laying upon it as she slept beneath the covers with an open book draped across her lap. A small candle burned on the nightstand and flickered a dim orangey glow, casting strange shadows across the walls. Joachim paused to gaze at her sleeping figure, her chest rising and falling to create an effortless motion with every exhale. She appeared unreachable and distant, though he did not realize just how close he was to her until he glided higher above the floor and drew nearer to her.

He floated above her in the air, moving sideways until he was parallel above her and could look down upon her sleeping figure. As he stared down at her, his posture looked no different than it would if he were standing upright. Joachim received the most ideal view from the position he remained in, and his gazing orbs never dared to blink out of fear she would vanish. The loveliness of the young maiden was almost beyond his comprehension. His eyes darted to the candle interrupting the darkness. He wished to see her enveloped in the moon's glowing light flooding through the drawn curtains, and with a glance upon it from his flickering red irises, the wick of the candle curled inward and the tiny flame extinguished. A small stream of smoke floated into the air, its scent mixing with the perfume.

He narrowed the gap between himself and his mortal of interest, and glided his body closer over the bedspread. His narrowed eyes remained locked upon her, and the scent of her perfume amplified the moment his face drew close - so close he felt the soft huff of her sweet breath skim across his cheeks. The young vampire's flowing white hair curtained around his face when he drew nearer to her. His eyes focused away from the soft relaxed expression she wore to probe the collar of her vest that tantalized his interest. The creature's delicate hand extended until his sharp fingernails touched the soft fabric buttoning the high collar in place. His fingers toyed with one of the buttons briefly, their sharp points prying the first button away and uncovering a portion of flesh. For a moment, he hesitated and gazed at her face. The lady's serene expression remained unchanged. Once he was certain she was still asleep, he pried away the next button down from the first, slowly revealing more of her fair skin, which was the color of milk in the moonlight. He focused upon the majestic curvatures of her neck and collarbone, whilst he lowered his lips over the tender flesh, parting them to expose his fangs.

Although her sloping neck enticed him, he clamped his mouth shut and touched the most tender region with his index finger, feeling the calm rhythm of her pulse thumping against his cold skin. A rush of crimson red flowed when his nail broke through the skin as if it were paper. The liquid was rich and thick like cream, tantalizing him with its scent. The corners of his lips formed a smirk whilst he pressed his finger upon his thirsting tongue. Her blood was sweeter than anything he had tasted before, for it was the blood of a virgin - innocent, pure, divine, and ready for the taking. After pausing to absorb its taste, he leaned over her and unbuttoned the rest of her vest. His cold, delicate hands gently parted the fabric, taking in the sight of her smooth, contoured breasts veiled under her slip.

He watched her eyes slowly flutter open. The lady's deep, glistening pools froze upon him. A short gasp parted from her dainty lips, and as if thinking to be in a nightmare, she blinked several times and stiffened beneath him. For the first time, he looked into her glittering sapphire eyes. Her hand flew to the fresh cut made on the side of her neck and clamped across it as her trembling lips fought to speak. "Who are you?" She gasped and clutched her hand tighter over her neck.

The creature's pale optics followed the steam of blood trickling down her collarbone. Despite the fear emanating from her, she dare not move. "You must be the Lady Sara Trantoul. My master is looking forward to meeting you. Apparently, you are a lady to _die_ for."

Before she could open her mouth to scream, he covered it with his cold, white hand. She attempted to struggle and clawed at his armor in an attempt to push him away. With a low, mocking chuckle, he lowered himself against her, pressing her frail form into the mattress. Though she tried to kick him, his superior power and strength subdued her with little effort. Her struggles merely made him press harder against her and his grip over her mouth tighten. "I want to know why the Baron loves you so," he whispered into her ear, before pressing his lips against her neck. "I am surprised he was willing to restrain himself until the wedding night. It would be a shame if he discovered his bride deflowered…would it not?" He snaked his tongue across her neck as she writhed against his touch. How he loved it when they struggled! It took great effort for him to avoid laughing. He settled himself against her, whilst his free hand slid up her dress and forced her legs apart. His claw-like fingernails dug into her thigh, nearly hard enough to make her bleed; until he remembered she was to be unharmed. An aching hardness pressed against his britches that urged him to take the gentle creature. He felt her teeth clamp onto his finger and bite down. Blood trailed across his palm. The red liquid slid down to his wrist and dripped upon her chest, staining her porcelain flesh red. Though she bit hard, it was nothing compared to his if he punctured her with his fangs. The pale demon barely even felt the pain. His aching hardness, the warmth of her body, and the scent of her blood overcame everything else. He pressed himself against her as his hand returned to his britches and began to slide them down. _Keep struggling, little lamb. Once I break your veil of chastity, I am certain your betrothed will love you no more. You are mine, now. _

The lady reminded him of someone he knew… but whose memory he suppressed. Vivid green eyes filtered through his thoughts. Completely different from the chestnut-haired woman struggling against him, yet the bright, gentleness within them was the same. For a moment, he considered pulling away when he pictured her face. _Catherine? _He remembered the coarse touch of her blood-soaked hair…her cold, pale skin…and felt a tiny voice inside his heard cry out for mercy. Somewhere, deep inside his thoughts, he remembered gazing at the mirror-like pool of blood surrounding her unmoving form. The lamb he had slain with his cruelty and lust. Tears welled in his eyes and threatened to fall but he held them back. Without realizing it, his pressure across the young woman's mouth increased until she fell limp. _Forgive me…Catherine…_All at once, the painful memories in his mind disappeared. He observed her for a moment, his cold, pale eyes scanning her beautiful, peaceful face.

_For a moment…and only a moment…I could have sworn…you looked like her. Catherine. Even now, in your sleep, you torment me with her memory. Somehow, tis'…tragic you must suffer like this. Walter will bleed you, little lamb…and perchance I will drink from you, as I did from her. Surely, there must be a way… I can atone for her death…somehow…there must be way..._

Footsteps thumped toward the door until the sound of concerned voices filled the silence. The creature withdrew from the lady with an annoyed huff. Joachim slid one hand beneath her knees and the other around shoulders. It took not an ounce of his strength to lift her into his arms. The pale creature turned, and with a soft swish from his fluttering robes, descended with his captive into the night.


	29. Chapter 29: Regret

**Author's Note:** Yay, I'm back! It has been far too long since I updated this story. I sincerely apologize for making you wait if you were anticipating quicker updates. Unfortunately, I was caught up in a heavy university semester and had almost no time to write until my classes finished. :( Now that Spring is here, I will have more time to edit my writing and work on this story. I am really grateful to everyone who has read this story and continued to support it. So, don't put this story into the graveyard of incomplete fanfics just yet! It took me a while to write this chapter because the last part of Melancholia was unfinished, so I have to write the rest as I go along from scratch (instead of re-writing chapters). Now that Sara Trantoul is in the story, things should get a lot more interesting. If you have any suggestions on what could happen next be sure to send me a message, as I am always open to ideas. Hopefully, you will like my take on Sara since she received very little character development in Lament of Innocence. Joachim's mental state is unpredictable, so don't be surprised if you find his actions a little erratic in this chapter. Previous reviewers mentioned that the story of this fic needed more attention and I hope this chapter helps.

Again, if you are still reading this, thank you for your continued support. I love reading reviews, as it helps me understand what people reading this story think and help me find ways to improve it.

Lateniteslacker: If you are still out there on fanfiction dot net, this debut chapter is dedicated to you!

* * *

**Chapter XXIX**

The red moon in the sky that cast its glowing crimson light over the young man and his horse. He crossed the drawbridge and dismounted. Sara's face was pale and locks of her dark brown hair fell across her chest and shoulders. The long, flowing white skirt of her dress fanned around him as he drifted into the corridor beyond the entranceway. The creature's graceful, indigo colored robes fluttered with him as he went, whilst his steely gaze remained focused upon the unconscious woman. She weighed barely anything at all. _Though you rest in peace now, by the time my master finishes with you, you will rest in pieces alongside your beloved knight. _Upon arriving at the blue door, he waved it open and floated within the tiny sanctuary. He laid her down on the floor in front of the stone angel. The creature then departed and sealed the door to the sanctuary with his mind.

After scanning the shadowy corridor, he muttered under his breath. "The lady has arrived."

A flash of black light appeared and unveiled his master's armored form. "At last you have returned." With cat-like stealth, the red-haired vampire emerged from the shadows; his pallid face glistening in the moonlight flooding through the numerous windowpanes behind him. Walter lifted one of his gauntlet-covered hands and brushed aside the crimson hair veiling his right eye. "As expected, she was not much of a challenge to obtain."

Joachim shrugged and gestured toward the sealed blue door. Strange, distorted shadows danced across his ashen face. The youth's smooth lips forced a grin. Even a simple smile took great effort. Curtains of his lush, white hair cascaded against his high cheekbones, giving him a frail, and somewhat chilling image. The purple aura surrounding his lithe form glowed faintly, its light allowing him to see the red-haired vampire's satisfied expression. With a huff, he turned away, his voice lowering to a dull hiss. "The lady was pathetically easy to capture. Even _you_ could have accomplished it."

A dangerous spark appeared within Walter's eyes. He swept toward the pale youth, his great armored frame towering over him when they were merely inches apart.

Joachim continued to gaze at the floor as if something terribly interesting existed near his feet. The young man's shoulders tensed whilst he felt Walter's penetrating, nearly suffocating, dark eyes scan him carefully. The red-haired demon tossed his head, causing coils of his shimmering locks to splay against his shoulders.

"Mind your tongue, servant." Walter's eyes narrowed. "I must entertain Baron Belmont when he arrives. Keep the lady safe until that time."

"As you wish. Though, if she burdens me, I shall not stand for it. It is not my duty to baby sit that woman."

"Quite the contrary, it is." The red-haired vampire parted his lips, unveiling the gleaming whites of his fangs. The youth did not even flinch at the gesture, his pale blue eyes barely lifting to look at his lord's face, whilst Walter added. "I am pleased with your success. Perhaps, later, I will reward you."

"_Me_?" Joachim scoffed. His lips curled into a sardonic grin. "I thought you were referring to yourself."

Without batting an eyelid, Walter's steel gauntlet cuffed him across the cheek. It was not hard enough to make him bleed, but the frail creature fell back against the wall, nursing the tender spot upon his face with his hand. Haggard breaths escaped his lungs as he slid down the wall, his mind spinning from the force of Walter's blow. He sensed his lord's patience with him was running thinner every time they spoke.

Walter loomed over him, his elegant visage tilted slightly downward. A smirk pressed across his lips when his voice filled the darkened corridor. With a soft sigh, the demon turned away, his long black cape sweeping around his armored form.

Joachim staggered to his feet and leaned against the wall for support. He observed the demon for a moment, feeling both attracted and repulsed by its presence. Without breathing a word, a part of him admired the smirk painted upon his lord's face with the artistry of a god. Something deep within in his twisted thoughts observed how the snake-like curls of Walter's fiery red hair tumbled lazily across his titan-like chest and muscular shoulder blades. Walter's every move was swift, powerful, and deliberate. His dark, cavernous eyes veiled his every thought and whim like a curtain. The bat-like folds of his armor-clad chest embraced his sculpted form, enclosing the pale, lifeless flesh beneath layers of blood-red steel. A thousand stolen lives echoed from every word, laugh, and flattery bestowed from the creature's silky lips. Though the youth knew not why, Walter's deep voice commanded his complete attention, its sound alone incinerating his will to resist, except within his mind. However, he knew that soon, the demon would claim his thoughts with the same unyielding greed as his soul.

"Who shall watch the lady?" Joachim chided smoothly, at last breaking the spell cast by Walter's penetrating gaze. "If she escapes, the demons will make a swift meal out of her pretty face. I doubt Baron Belmont will think she is worth rescuing should such an unfortunate circumstance occur."

Walter's lips became taught. "I do not expect the lady to remain here long." With a huff, the red-haired captor slinked into the shadows until only the glint of red in his irises were visible. Like a dying breeze, his voice lowered. "Remember, you serve and belong only to me." The demon's left hand balled into a fist. The metal fingers of his gauntlets chafed against his palm, creating a dull, scratching noise, as his narrowed eyes remained glared upon the youth with the malice of death itself. "I know you have enjoyed hunting alone…and other activities as well, Joachim." A spark of rage flickered within his dark, glinting eyes when a brief silence returned the red-haired vampire's observation.

"So?" Joachim huffed, ready to test his lord's patience a second time. He could see rage building in Walter's eyes when he shrugged. "You need not fear any competition for my heart, Walter, since you would rather own it than earn it."

For a moment, he thought the other vampire was going to strike him. An ominous red light formed around Walter's trembling fist, matching the crimson glow in his eyes whilst he retorted. "Your indiscriminate choices are unbecoming. Wash yourself, filthy wretch, for you reek of human blood. I do not wish to look upon such a disgraceful sight. You became mine the moment I turned you and granted you eternity. Your insolence is tiresome, and your childish melancholy rather unbecoming of you, Joachim. I do not have time for such trivialities whilst anticipating the Baron's arrival. Entertain our guest…for if you do not, perhaps, you will entertain your _master_, instead. You are fortunate I still grant you the freedoms you believe are entitled to you. I assure you, should you displease me again, I will not be lenient. Consider this a warning…my dear servant."

Before Joachim could return his master's warning with an insult, Walter vanished in a flash of white light. The moonlit hallway seemed suddenly lonelier. Only the wind whistling through cracks in the windowpanes kept him company.

_At least my master's search for that little red stone will keep him occupied. I am certain that tactician, Mathias, knows its whereabouts. It's too bad I didn't kill Lord Cronqvist…for his power will soon reach uncontrollable levels…_

The pale youth grimaced whilst he approached the sanctuary door and focused his thoughts, commanding it to open with the will of his mind. The question of Mathias' whereabouts would have to wait until after he attended to Walter's guest.

After returning to the tiny sanctuary, his eyes darted to the figure of a young woman at the opposite side. The lady stood near the gate behind the stone angel, her bright azure eyes wide and fearful, and her skin somewhat paler than before. Upon sighting him, she backed up against the window's wrought iron gate, her breath hitching in her chest as she stared at his levitating form.

"So, you have awoken at last. Good evening, Lady Trantoul." A proud chuckle escaped Joachim's throat and filled the narrow space. The sound of his delight echoed of the walls as he floated inside, his robes fluttering around him as he went, unbothered by the fact her face drained of all color from the sight of him. The creature's fine lips formed a grin. "What are you staring at?" His hand clenched into a fist as his swords broke their alignment and began to whirl around him. The glowing blades swiped at the air, their metallic, blood-stained surfaces reflecting like mirrors off the room's watery pools. The aqua water glittered like gemstones, its beauty contrasting with the creature's maliciousness. He could almost smell her blood from where he was – teasing him, alluring him, and beckoning him to quench his thirst. If his mind was not careful, one careless thought was capable of sending his swords through her throat. _It's too bad I can't kill you yet._

Tendrils of her thick, brown hair fell against Sara's neck, breaking his view of her throat. "Who are you? Why have you brought me to this place?"

"Who am I?" With a loud huff, he cross his arms and felt the sharp points of his fingernails dig into his palms. "My name is _Joachim Armster_."

"Armster? My mother spoke of your family. You…you are the only son of the great Lord Zaeviean Armster, his ill child-"

"Be silent! Your human tongue is not fit for speaking my name."

Sara's bright eyes looked upon him intently. The room's aqua light illuminated her soft, graceful features. The young woman bowed her head. "I wish to know the reason for my abduction, Lord Armster."

"You and your knightly Leon are to be sacrifices in my lord's game." He gave her a nonchalant shrug. _Why else would you be here? Foolish girl, you know not what I could do to you now – and would do to you, were my master not so eager to keep you alive. _

"Game?" The lady gasped. "I have done you no ill will. I can tell by your clothing that you are a nobleman. Surely, you do not intend to receive monetary rewards from my abduction?"

Joachim's nails dug into his palms, whilst his brow furrowed and his lips separated, revealing the needle-like points of his fangs. "_Man_?" he repeated the word with a repulsed huff, as though it were poison to his ears. The glowing aura surrounding his body intensified when he spat. "If I were permitted, I would have punctured your pretty neck and drained all the blood coursing through your veins. Then, perhaps, you would find out how much of a _man _I truly am. Money is of no importance to vampires, foolish girl."

"I pray you, do not do such a thing!" The lady's stance became rigid as she cupped her hands in front of her, her calm demeanor like that of a nun in prayer. Despite her fear, her voice was soft, and if he had not detected her shudder faintly, he might have believed she was feigning.

Joachim unclenched his hands, his head tilting downward, whilst his gleaming eyes shot a thousand silent curses upon her. "Do you fear me?" his words became a guttural hiss. "Oh, my dear Lady Trantoul, you need not worry…" He paused deliberately, allowing a smile to crease the corners of his lips. One of his hands brushed aside the silky locks of his white hair. "I have no intention of releasing you. Instead, allow me to show you a bit of hospitality!"

In the blink of an eye, he seized her throat and flung her against the stone angel. The woman's bright blue eyes filled with pain as she gasped, clawing at his wrist whilst he smiled with the enthusiasm of a daemon. All five of his whirling swords flew past her face and embedded themselves into the floor around the base of the statue, their metallic blades slicing through the stone with terrifying ease. The youth's grip relented as a tint of red flashed in his eyes. "I have wiped out villages, killed priests, burnt churches, and drained humans of their blood! If you had seen the joy in my eyes, you would fear me! And you rightly should, human."

The woman coughed and struggled for air, her eyes wide and unblinking as she pulled her legs toward her chest and huddled against the angel – perhaps, hoping God would save her from the demon's cruelty. Yet, the angel's gaze remained locked upon the heavens, ignoring her tearful gaze. "Please stop!" She cried, though the sweetness in her voice sounded bolder than he expected. The ivory colored skirt of her dress fanned around her delicate form, whilst her beautiful face tilted and looked up at him, daring to catch a glimpse of the creature's pallid visage.

"Stop?" His cold eyes surveyed her with indifference. "I may or may not spare you depending on my master's wishes. If your fate were mine to decide, I would have ended your wretched life far sooner. Walter – my _master_ – wishes for me to keep you safe."

After drawing a breath, Sara folded her hands in prayer, her long brown hair cascading against her face like waves of silk. With a dignified smile, she rose upon her feet and her eyes lifted to catch a closer glimpse of him. Although she was fair and delicate, she stood before the floating demon with the determination of a saint.

The longer his icy glare bore into her sapphire irises, the more her presence drew him. "…_Catherine?_…" his voice suddenly eluded every fiber that told him to hold his tongue, but he was too late to withhold his thoughts.

A warm rush flooded through him when his voice drew her eyes to his. The creature struggled to ignore her sorrow, however, the tears filling her eyes made his pale frame shudder. An icy chill filled his chest as he floated before her, his voice sounding oddly faint, whilst his mirror-like eyes gazed relentlessly upon her. A sudden feeling of dread and pain overwhelmed him as he found himself ensnared by the woman's tender gaze. It took almost all of his strength to free himself of her, his voice darkening as he stared at the floor, veiling his thoughts behind his rage. He lunged forward as one of his claw-like hands seized her by the neck like a pheasant. The woman quivered beneath his icy grip while his long, razor-like fingernails pressed against her jugular. It would be so very easy…the dull, crunching sound of bone breaking…glazing eyes, a trembling gasp….

As if possessed, he dragged her forward and held her up in front of him, ignoring her pained cries as he lifted her off the floor singlehandedly. In spite of the hatred he held for his lord, Joachim could not deny the surge of delight he felt from the fact that he was invulnerable. Both his strength and stamina were superior to humans. If he wished, he could have broken her neck like a chicken with merely a sharp twist of his hand. In that moment, he lost composure and burst into a fit of loud, boorish laughter, his voice resounding through the narrow room and reverberating off the walls. A red tint flashed through the creature's eyes, his slender frame trembling with rapturous ecstasy, as he carefully eyed her neck…

To his growing chagrin, the woman refused to struggle against his hold. The only sound she made was a cry of pain when his hand tightened around her throat like a vice. "Have you imagined what it feels like to have a vampire's fangs puncture your neck?" He hissed. "At least you have someone who will do anything to save you - _Leon Belmont_."

Intensity appeared within the calm, reflective pools of her azure eyes as she gasped, her voice filling the room. "Why did you call me Catherine?"

Joachim's eyes glazed as he pictured the blood rushing through her veins, but clamped his jaw shut when his wandering eyes locked with hers. Sara's mirror like pupils dilated until he withdrew, only to throw her onto the floor. She lifted her head and gazed at him. "Catherine?" The youth raised an eyebrow, whilst the lump forming in his throat nearly made him choke. Without warning, his pale face seemed to lose all – if any – color it possessed when he heard her speak.

"What have I done to deserve your hatred?" Sara asked, her azure blue eyes catching his once again.

Memories threatened to break the young man's fragile resolve. With a hiss, he struck her with the back of his hand. Sara sobbed when the force of the blow sent her spiraling backwards onto the floor. Joachim gazed at the way her white dress flowed around her as she cupped a hand around her tender left cheek and slid away from him, until the stone angel trapped her once again.

"_Lowly human_…" Joachim sneered. Conversing with humans no longer interested him. Nevertheless, he sensed silent rage seeping within in her eyes. Before he could utter another insult, the woman's hand clenched into a fist.

"I will not allow you to strike me again!" She cried, whilst her once demure eyes narrowed furiously. "I have done you no harm. Why must you direct your anger upon me, rather than those who have wronged you?"

"Those who wronged me are dead." He snapped. "And you will soon join them, Lady Trantoul. Were it not for my influence, the monsters in this castle would have found you and torn you to pieces. My master would be greatly displeased if I let you die. Though I admit, you might be better off dead, if Baron Belmont should fail. Is something so pitiful as love truly worth dying for? Humans place far too much emphasis on its importance."

"Are you so devoid of love," Sara whispered. "That all you know is hate?"

To this, he said nothing. The creature's guise of rage threatened to yield to his astonishment. With a huff, he whirled and floated toward the door, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. "You know _nothing_, human."

"I know you spoke a woman's name." She persisted gently. "Please, tell me why-"

"Enough!" He interrupted without casting her a single glance. The harshness in his voice, as well as his demeanor, made his temper unpredictable. The youth commanded the room's heavy door to open with barely the wave of a hand. He could feel the girl's intensity upon him growing from the fact that he refrained from walking or using physical force against even the simplest of objects. Everything bent to his will, and it would not be long before Lady Trantoul did as well – even if it entailed breaking her in half. "You are safe in this room," he said. "I grow weary of you already. Should you decide to make your stay difficult, you will pay dearly for it, I assure you.

"I do not fear you." Sara replied. Her voice softened, its sound whispering in his ears. "Your heart has ceased to beat, and your skin is as cold and pale as death. I cannot imagine how you became what you are. Though you call yourself a man no more, neither will you deny you were human once."

The girl's persistence amused him. With a mocking bow, he chuckled under his breath. "Why should it matter? If Walter is merciful...you shall soon die."

Without awaiting her answer, he flew through the doorway and let the door slam shut behind him. As long as she was locked inside, he need not concern himself with her. Nevertheless, he remembered that Walter commanded him to watch over her closely.

When he thought about Walter's declining ardor, the youth covered his face with his hands and shrunk into the shadows. He reflected upon his lord's enraged expression, not with satisfaction, but with a slight twinge of regret. _Though we are united in death, power divides us, Walter. You know I am dissatisfied…and you despise my presence like a blight upon your conscience. What will you do now? Your need for power will condemn you to solitude. _

Though the moonlight attempted to comfort him, he received no satisfaction from harming the young lady. Curtains of pearly hair fell around his face and obscured his eyes.

"_Lord Armster…_" Sara's voice suddenly spoke from behind the heavy stone door. "_If you release me from this room, I promise not to escape."_

A mocking chuckle escaped his lips whilst his lithe form leaned against the light blue door. He folded his arms across his chest, his eyes glinting in the dim red moonlight shining across his ashen visage. His laughter quickly died into silence, for he realized in that moment that he was completely alone. It pained him when he thought about the pain he had caused her. He pressed a hand to his cheek. Without even looking at her, he could feel her standing close; separated only by the door between them.

Not a fraction of anger was detectable within her voice when she added. "_I doubt that when you were human, you were this cruel, Lord Armster._"

The eternal moon was the only company he had, but even then he grew tired of its crimson hue. "Such pathetic sentiments will accomplish nothing, Lady Trantoul." he pressed his face close to the door to listen and continued. "I have not seen your betrothed come to save you yet."

The response he received was far from what he expected. "_You may do what you will with me, for like you, I have no control over my fate._"

"I will hear no more of this!" A softened sigh parted through his lips. He attempted to imagine her standing beneath the angel of stone, her face so divine and graced in God's image but try as he might her face only made his frustration visible. Regret was not a familiar feeling. The only thing he knew was blood, flesh, and death.

With a sigh, he drifted away from the door and wandered through the castle until he reached the tallest tower. The cold night wind danced across the ancient castle's rooftop, playing with the silken strands of his hair. The creature's eyes narrowed as he floated toward the banister of the carpeted staircase leading to Walter's throne room. Though he considered berating Walter, his eyes were drawn to the starry night sky. A massive full red moon loomed over the tower and cast a strange glow across his face. He feared what he could do if he looked upon Sara again. The only safe place from the monsters was the tiny sanctuary, but he could not keep her in there forever. He forgot that humans consumed food and needed to sleep. He forgot the warmth of the sun and the beauty of the dawn. He forgot the simple pleasure of reading, writing, studying, and the sound of a woman's voice singing to him in his dreams…

The only thing left for him to desire was power. Power would free him from Walter – for the last time. In spite of his confidence, a terrible feeling overwhelmed him. The soft whispers of the night could not conceal his growing unease. A blood contract between Mathias and Walter had sealed Sara's fate. The girl was simply a distraction.

Walter enjoyed playing games but did not actively try to eradicate those who threatened the night. As long as the crusades raged in the East they were safe. However, nothing lasted forever. The church's attention would turn to the shadows, eventually. Fearless men like Leon Belmont would enter the forest with a past stained by bloodshed and violence. It was only a matter of time before humans challenged Walter's authority.

Eternal Night was a relic from a forgotten era. Whether the castle would retain its influence depended on who controlled its power.

Only one could rule…and it would be _him_.

* * *

The woman's crystalline blue eyes looked upon him gently, refusing to yield under his penetrating glare. Like a cobra, his sharp tongue attempted to poison her confidence. "I don't understand why my master traded eternity for _you_. What a waste."

Sara spoke without the slightest pause, and in turn stepped closer to him so their faces nearly touched. He watched her cup her dainty hands in front of her with the purity of a saint, her graceful lashes fluttering as her eyes lifted to look upon the pale demon's wan visage. Her voice was sweet, addressing him so resolutely that he hesitated to consider her kindness. "You must have lost a great many things in your life, Lord Armster."

Joachim's lips parted as he fought against the urge to drive the kindness out of her with the back of his hand. He felt his right palm lift, the tips of his claw-like fingers curling and trembling against the urge. Truly, Sara was an enigma he could not fully understand, no matter how hard he tried. Though he admired her, the blood coursing within her veins dominated his thoughts like a relentless temptation.

Joachim drew away from her, his eyes widening as his voice strained against the terrible, deadly longing building inside his tormented soul. "Walter Bernhard granted me this life," he breathed, his lips trembling while he sought to understand the divide separating him from himself. The lines between human and vampire had blurred to the point that he no longer knew which defined him. "I was worthy, and so he made me his. Empathize and pray all you wish, for such things mean little to me."

She bowed her head, curtaining her face behind the veils of thick, brown hair cascading across her shoulders. "I knew you would return."

"Perhaps, to kill you?" He chided, ignoring the bright glint in her eyes as his lower lip curled into a sneer. It frustrated him that the emptiness in his eyes did not deter her in the slightest. Sara's hopeful expression extinguished his desire to kill, though he knew not the reason for it. No human had ever faced him without fearing him.

"Death is part of life, and I accept it with gratitude." She replied.

"How can you say that?" His rage intensified, and a rapturous snarl vibrated through his throat upon feeling her hand grasp his. The warmth of her human flesh touching his pale, dead skin made him flinch.

Without hesitating, Sara pulled him toward her, her crystalline eyes blazing in challenge. The woman bowed gracefully, her voice sharpening the moment her sudden boldness drew his eyes to hers. "If you think yourself so grand a vampire, prove your strength without your powers! Show me you are truly as fierce as the one who imprisoned you and grant me death. _Walk _to me, and slay me not by your swords, but by your _own hand_!" Without allowing him to reply, she backed away from him toward the gated windowpanes and stood before them, staring at him with the grace and dignity of a saint. The woman he held her head high, cupping her hands in front of her as a soft, sad smile spread across her lips.

Joachim's pale, lifeless eyes traced the woman's graceful form. With a repugnant huff, his lower lip curled into a delighted sneer. "If you think I am weak, you are more foolish than I initially expected! How dare you insult me with such a trivial challenge! If death is your wish, I am more than capable of granting it!"

He withheld a sigh long enough to ease the purple aura encasing his body diminished until there was nothing to support him off the floor. The crucial moment came when his boots touched its hard surface for the first time since he was turned. With a chuckle, he took a confident step forward. Walking should have come easily to him – in fact, he expected it to be effortless, for it was something he had learned during his infancy. However, everything became a blur when his frail from suddenly crumpled onto the floor like lead. Spots of pain blinded his vision when his face collided against the stone. Blood filled his mouth as he raised his head, coughing up the disgusting red liquid as his throat released a horrified, anguished roar. "This can't be!"

"Lord Armster!" Sara cried out as he lay sprawled out on the floor, struggling to get up, and finding the effort futile.

The sight was pathetic and shamed him, for he could not rise without the aid of his powers. It had been months since he walked, possibly even longer. Though he had tried to walk during his nightly hunts, he always pretended to be injured, and required assistance from his unwary victims. The muscles in his legs had grown weak from neglect. The youth's eyes burned whilst he growled like an angry beast. It occurred to him, that if the woman wished it, she could have used his moment of weakness to escape. The idea of Walter finding him sprawled across the floor – outwitted by a simple human – made his eyes burn with rage and humiliation.

A reflection of sorrow and pity appeared in Sara's eyes as she gazed upon the trembling creature.

Her hands caressed his pale cheeks and stroked his hair. Memories flooded into his mind as he lay helpless near his prisoner. He looked up into Sara's eyes for a long time, absorbing himself in her crystalline spheres whilst his thoughts drifted to a woman he knew long ago. A woman once held him, comforted him, and cared for him. No one cared for him now. Without realizing it, he shuddered and gasped, for he feared what he might do to such a gentle creature. "Why do you comfort me?" He rasped.

Sara wiped the tears away from his face. "None of this is your fault."

"Why?" he whispered. "Take this moment and flee. It will only make chasing you and killing you more enjoyable!"

"I will not run. Leon is coming to save me, and he will save you too if you let him!" the comfort she tried to provide made his lip twitch, and his hands push her gentle fingers away from his lifeless flesh.

"You have more faith than I, Lady Trantoul." A weak smile wielded its way across his lips. "I have disrespected you, beaten you and betrayed you. What purpose would I serve outside the forest of Eternal Night?" He shifted to slide his head off her lap, to move away from the angel who sought to comfort him, but something made him stay near her in spite of himself. "I have not spoken to a human in a long time…without killing them." He lowered his head and cast his eyes to the floor, but she cupped a hand beneath his chin and tilted it up to look at her again.

"You told me Walter was the one who turned you into a vampire." She began, "Why did he commit this horrid crime upon you? Has he no compassion?"

Joachim answered in an undertone of a hiss. "You don't understand who my master is. _Compassion_ was his reason for tainting me." Barely containing another sigh, he dismissed her immediately."Damn Walter…if it were not for his Ebony Stone-"

"I heard Mathias mention that stone once! Perhaps he could help-" he words were silenced by the stiffening of Joachim's frame when his sharp voice interrupted.

"I assure you, Mathias has no intention of helping anyone. The ties you and Leon have with him are the reason why you are here."

Sara placed a hand across her mouth, releasing a gasp. "How can that be? Leon said Lord Conqvist's condition was improving-"

"I am sure Mathias failed to mention his version of improving involved vengeance against God?" Joachim allowed for a pause so she could collect herself again, but the pain in her voice did not fade for an instant, and neither had her loss of composure been regained. "Your savior, Leon, has sought guidance from a vampire guised as a friend."

"Lord Cronqvist would never do such a thing!" Sara shook her head, her voice trembling with disbelief. "Leon trusts him. They endured great hardship together. Surely, this cannot be-"

"You are here, are you not?" Joachim snapped. "What would I gain through falsehood? Your betrothed is too trusting. Mathias summoned Baron Belmont so that my master could obtain you during his absence."

"If Mathias leads him here, I fear the evil he will face in this castle! I will not allow him to use Leon in this despicable act. Baron Belmont is brave and determined! Even against Mathias, he stronger still!" The young lady forced a weak smile to crease the corners of her fine lips, and under the dim light her fair skin was almost as pale as his own.

Joachim's eyes blazed afire, and he struggled to maintain his composure while placing his feet on the floor. Wisps of his pearly locks cascaded against his cheeks as he lowered his head. Although his legs had not gained their strength, he fought against using his powers long enough to grasp a hand onto the bars of the gated window, and use it to pull himself upright. Sara's eyes observed his attempt until she got to her feet and moved close to support his frail figure against hers. Since he had relied on his powers, his body was light and ill equipped for walking. Despite his instances to be alone, his feet stepped slowly across the floor like a newborn child, and he instinctively grasped Sara's arm for support.

"Why are you walking?" Sara asked after a few minutes had passed, revealing minimal progress that moved him only a few feet further than where he once stood. "I did not mean to insult you. If you wish to levitate, I will not mind, for it seems more natural for you." She guided him gently across the floor, her lips forming their gorgeous smile that enticed his hardened gaze. "You could have drained me of my blood. Instead, you spared me…"

"I spared you for now." The creature muttered under his breath. "Keep your distance, human."

The young lady's porcelain white skin accented her shining deep chestnut locks that coiled neatly against her shoulders. "If you had been able to walk, would you have killed me?"

Joachim looked away from her and continued trying to walk, swaying unsteadily as he went. "My lord wishes to keep you alive until Baron Belmont arrives."

"Where are you going?"

The young vampire's face lightened under the moon's illumination, revealing the small smirk played across his wintry lips. "You said you wanted to leave?" He swept toward the door on the far end of the corridor, and waited till he heard her muffled footsteps sound over the fine red carpet. He shook his head when his eyes caught the clear hint of hesitation over her warm features. "I have decided you shall accompany me."

"Thank you, Lord Armster." In less than a few moments the lady hurried to accompany him. "You are doing much better at walking!" her cheerful attempt at conversation only received a dull huff in reply. Still undaunted, her eyes scanned him from head to toe inquisitively. "How many wings does this castle have? Have you been to them all?"

"No." he avoided looking at her bright expression as they entered the teleport room where all five of the strange discs were ebbed into the floor. "Stay close to me. This castle is infested with monsters. I am sure, if you try to escape, they would tear you apart more willingly than I."

Sara abruptly huddled closer to him when he passed over the painting to the stone disc on the floor in the middle of the row consisting of five discs in total. Once he stopped in front of his chosen location, he turned to her again and ushered her onto it. "Perhaps, you might enjoy…" He began, pausing a moment to collect himself, his voice firming as he avoided meeting her gaze. "As long as you stay out of my way, I shall permit you to join me on a brief venture. Though your strength is inferior to my own, I would rather _tolerate_ the company of a human than Walter."

"Monsters? What kind of monsters?" Sara stepped next to him onto the small circle of stone. The fear in her eyes caused the young vampire to emit a disdainful chuckle.

"There are monsters you could not even imagine. Some crawl like snakes along the floor. Others possess steel blades for hands, which could dismember you instantly. There are also those whose immense power and stature could crush you beneath their feet like an insect." The only sound she made was a horrified gasp, and though he dared not to look at her, he noticed she was trembling. He pursed his lips, and without realizing it, his voice abruptly softened. "Yes, you should be frightened, Lady Trantoul-"

"Frightened?" She gasped. "You are mistaken, Lord Armster. I cannot fathom how you have managed to survive in this place. You look so very pale and fragile, it frightens me that _you_ do not fear the night-"

"Fear it?" He sneered, drawing his head back in disgust. "Soon, very soon indeed, I will be beloved by the night. Walter will regret…indeed he will…he _will_…"

Sara looked at him for a long time, her eyes glinting sadly in the room's dim candlelight. Strange shadows danced across the row of statues watching the two figures. "It is clear you despise him very much." she whispered.

"Despise is the very least of my feelings," He hissed, his face drawing a dark grimace. "Walter enjoys strutting around like a peacock; he is ignorant of the fact that whilst he plays his games, unrest builds in the shadow of his glory."

The five symbiotic swords aligned dormant behind his back sprung to life and circled around him. Joachim closed his eyes and summoned the power within himself, the depths of his pain and sorrow that emanated the glowing deep purple aura around his body – but he refused to allow it to lift him off the floor. The circulation of the swords quickened as he opened his eyes and increased their velocity, as well as the distance they encircled until the barrier of swords protected Sara as well. A loud scoff parted from his lips at the sight of her surprised expression, though before she could comment a white glow flashed around the circular stone they stood on, until it flew into the air and ascended into the blackness above. A brief flash quickly left them standing on the teleport pad situated on a high balcony that viewed the small entranceway crystallized in rainbow shades reflected from the large stained glass window behind them.

Sara's eyes were alit the second she stepped off the transport pedestal to lean over the stone railing in view of the room. "How was that possible? I felt a flash, and now we are standing here. This place is beautiful." her lips formed a delighted smile when he stepped forward and stood next to her. focused on the floor below the balcony they stood. A group of four skeletons clutching large bone clubs in their hands had begun to lumber forward, their glowing red eyes flashing at the sight of the young woman. "They are coming toward us!"

"Be silent!" he hissed. "They are among the most mindless creatures here, for they cannot even climb the balcony steps."

His eyes narrowed, accompanying the tilting of his frame that leaned overtop the railing while a snarl of warning filled his words at the sight of the clumsy looking skeletons. Their gleaming white skulls tilted to look up at him, and the horror of their dusty bones and crimson eyes made Sara shift nearer to him. Joachim cocked his head, watching the creature erratically swinging its bone club. His slender frame leaned farther over the railing, and without batting an eyelid, all five of his swords twirled sideways and slashed at the approaching skeleton. The dull snapping of bones sounded like breaking twigs from each sideward slash the five blades succeeded upon it, until the monster had been reduced to a pile of dusty debris. Joachim raised his eyebrows and grinned at the stunned monsters standing in a confused fashion below, but not one of them moved an inch as he turned and descended the staircase. The swords quickly returned to encircling around him and Sara, who followed behind while keeping her eyes locked on the vampire leading her onward. After reaching the floor of the entranceway, he stopped and allowed her to admire the marble statue of an angel in the center of the room.

Her eyes trailed up the length of the statue to admire its angelical expression and flowing robes. "When you were human, were you a knight as well as a lord? You mastery over those swords is extraordinary!"

Joachim lowered his head and stared at her with a piercing glare, his eyes narrowing from her curious gaze upon the blades. The youth turned away without replying.

"You have every characteristic of a knight-" She nearly jumped back at the sight of his glinting eyes tinted a shade of crimson.

"None of that is any of your concern!" With a huff, he turned his back and waited till he heard her soft footsteps echo across the floor. "Cease questioning me at once!"

"It was not my intention to offend you." She released a heavy sigh. "Must you be impatient, Lord Armster? Tis' unusual for me to witness five swords floating above the floor, with nary a hand touching them…how do you manipulate them so?"

"When I became a vampire, I developed…strange abilities." He replied, gracing her with the tiniest smile to avoid appearing too uncongenial. "I can control them with my thoughts."

"I did not expect that vampires were capable of moving objects without touching them…and that you…could kill people…"

"I have killed many with these swords," He smirked. "And many more will die. That is the nature of vampires – death follows us wherever we go."

Though he wished to continue on, he whirled upon seeing her stop to look at him. Despite her apparent lack of fear, he detected a hint of grief shadow her face as she folded her hands in front of her, her head lowering when she spoke. "Do you ever feel guilty for taking the lives of innocents?" She asked.

Without hesitating, he gave her a simple shrug and looked away. Pale streams of moonlight peeked through the stain glass windows adorning the walls and flooded around his lithe figure. Almost with a wish to disappear within the darkness, he answered. "No, I do not."

At first, Sara gave no reply. He watched her turn away from him to admire the crumbling engravings within the door ahead of them. The majestic image of a rearing unicorn set into the door's solid frame seemed to draw the woman's attention for a moment. Yet, under her breath, he heard her soft voice whisper quietly. "I don't believe you. If you felt no guilt, you would not have spared my life. Nor would you have spoken a woman's name…"

Joachim huffed under his breath. "Believe whatever you want, human." He sneered. "Tis' no concern of mine what becomes of you or your beloved."

They soon reached the room on the other side that appeared to be an abandoned sanctuary, complete with broken pews, a rusted organ and paintings along the walls of women holding cherubs. It was not long before a foul stench made Sara place hand over her mouth, as her eyes darted to the numerous moaning zombies lumbering between the aisle of pews. "Joachim-" her muffled cried out to him. The intensity of their stench was beyond ordinary corpses. Centuries of decay had taken their toll on the undead, leaving behind mindless, hungry shapes of flesh and bone.

In spite of his disgust, Joachim did not hesitate to resume their conversation. "Now do you see the true nature of this place? It is teeming with creatures of every sort, including some of the lowest and most dim-witted of them all – zombies. They possess no ability to think, feel…their sole existence is to consume the flesh of the living."

"Are you going to harm them?" she slid away toward the door, until her back pressed against it in fear. Joachim ensured his swords were ready, and finished with a firm nod.

"I am going to _eradicate_ them." He smirked but let it fade at the sight of the moaning undead moving at a snail's pace in their direction. Buzzing flies surrounded the ragged clothed walking corpses that occasionally stopped to vomit their sickening green slime all over the wooden floor. Their nauseating behavior made him jerk his head back, until his furious gaze sent his swords slashing forth once again. With every dying groan from the zombies, the air grew breathable again and the vomit covering the floorboards slowly drained between the cracks and into the ground below.

"I put them out of their misery now, so you may explore this room, if you wish." Joachim turned and faced her, and was taken aback by her somber face as she stepped forward and headed toward the pews. He followed her and kept his distance back, until she stopped at the altar. The flowing fabric of her white dress, complete by the shine of her azure blue vest, made her appearance as saintly as the women depicted in the portraits on the walls. She lowered her head and cupped her hands so that her smooth flawless face was concealed behind a curtain of lush chestnut tresses.

"What are doing?" he stared down at her, watching her eyes close with her reply.

"I am praying for Leon's safety."

"Stop wasting your time." His eyes hardened when she did not move and continued to keep her head bowed in silence. His lips parted from the strange aura surrounding him, an aura so enticing his eyes were literally transfixed upon her. The young vampire's hand extended to her and touched the strands left down against her back to brush them away, unveiling the flesh of her vulnerable neck.

The thought of what he was tempted to do quickly set into his mind, and in the blink of an eye, a horrified snarl erupted from his throat and he staggered backward, covering his face with his hands. "No!" he choked. "I…must not…touch you, Catherine! Get away from me, now!"

"Are you all right?" her lips became taut with concern, but he held up a hand the second she tried to move toward him. "You called me Catherine again!"

"I did not!" He snapped. The creature fought to regain his composure. He had almost lost himself in his hunger. No matter how intensely the urge demanded to be satisfied, he would deny it completely in her presence. Nevertheless, his hands began to tremble as he whirled and flew from the room, his robes unfurling behind him as he went. What name had he just spoken, and who was she? Though he tried to remember, his memories were fading…and becoming more distant, like dying rays of the sun beyond the horizon. He remembered the soft words Sara whispered while she prayed. A woman's face vaguely appeared in his mind – soon veiled by a grim-faced man with a black cassock. Pain filled him the longer his thoughts dwelled upon the man, unknowingly revisiting a horrid injustice. The man's robes were forced from his clenched hands…whilst he wept…pleaded to God…for the salvation of an infant…

As he floated into the room beyond, his entire frame shivered in disorder, his voice becoming hoarse as he called to her. "I know nothing of what you speak! Your prayers are searing my ears, and the sight of you kneeling offends me! Such rituals are unbearable! Do not ever do that again in my presence, for I do not follow your faith… as I am, now."

Sara attempted to object, but her eyes only lingered on him sadly as she hurried to follow his quickening pace. Although she walked a few paces behind him, he ensured their distance was greater than before. Joachim's gaze diverted to the step down from the platform on which they stood, while numerous spinning red discs darted randomly across the floor below.

"What are those?" Sara asked. The woman took a hesitant step toward the edge of the platform.

"Stop!" Joachim lunged out and gripped her arm fiercely with his hands, dragging her back so powerfully he could have snapped her frail ligament in half if he was not careful. "Unless you want to be sliced into pieces, stay on the platform!"

"How can we pass?" she looked from him to the wide area where a door could be seen faintly on the other side. The vampire surveyed their situation carefully, and without hesitation grabbed her and lifted her into his arms. Sara gasped and wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, while he supported her and made a reluctant channel of his powers so his feet levitated over the floor.

"This is the only way." The dimly lit room would have made seeing the sliding red razors impossible for most humans, however his abilities to see in darkness had proved once again to be a valuable asset. There were numerous short pillars placed throughout the room, and he sought them as the safest way to take. "I can smell blood in this room. Many humans have died trying to cross this trap. If monsters were all that Walter's opponents had to face it would be too easy. Walter has turned Eternal Night into a gravesite for those who fail to win his game."

"Leon will not fail. I can do is hope you will carry me across this room safely. You are indeed a superior being, with more knowledge and capabilities than I could ever imagine. I am, after all, just a _lowly human _by comparison."

Sara's grip tightened in response to his quick movements, while he jumped from pillar to pillar dotted all over the floor until he landed safely on the opposite side. "I knew you would not let me fall." She leaned close to his ear and whispered softly, but as though he had not heard her, he deliberately set her down and turned away.

"Tis' unnecessary for us to continue any further, for I am uncertain how deep this place goes." His gaze focused on the door, and opened it without so much as lifting a finger. "Well? Keep with my pace, human! If my lord discovers I let you out of that room, he will be furious." A smug smile wielded across his lips before he flew through the opened door and glanced back to ensure he intended her to follow him.

They entered the largest corridor he had ever seen in his life, which was so long that he could not see the opposite side. Sara's eyes were alit once again, as she hurried to keep up with him until he stopped at the hallway's intersecting area to take a few glances around. Part of it continued onward, while another portion branched off to the right side. "It's beautiful…" Her words echoed through the hall's massive space, and off its stone walls and ornately designed floor. The countless stain glass windows lining its entire length permitted a series of moonbeams to illuminate its enchanting arched ceiling. "Why would a vampire build a cathedral? Was he once human…like you?"

Joachim released a sigh and moved toward one of the stained glass windows. Locks of pure white fell against his face, his head tilting to look upon the design of colors reflected on the floor where he levitated. The tails of his robes waved behind him like unfurling wings, and the uneasy form of his floating ability became clear through his constant backward and forward jerking movements. "I have seen Walter butcher people without the slightest concern, and crush bones with such force a man's skull shatters. At a whim he could rip your frail body to pieces. I would hardly call a thing like that human."

"Was this a sacred place where monks and priests worshiped and prayed? You will think me a fool, though I believe at one time that was so." He turned to look at her again, for the very way she stood looking back at him reminded him of more pleasant times in his life. Joachim eased his levitation so his boots could touch and the hall's wide marble floor. Although his vampire powers gave him the ability to float, he was much more stable when he stood on the ground. The porcelain white coloration of his skin made him appear like a divine fallen angel in the moonlight cascading over his slender body.

"I was never a believer in God, even though the church obligated me to pay my dues as a lord. God's will, as you would call it, is run by men who interpret it for their own benefit."

Sara folded her arms across her chest, her deep sapphire optics gazing at him intently. She gave an uneasy glance around the hall, and pressed her lips together in silence. The thick strands of her chestnut hair shimmered, though her shifting prompted him to speak.

Joachim eyed her suspiciously, trying to probe through the reason for her uneasy silence. "Why are you staring at me?" his sharp inquiry jolted her, and she stepped away at the sight of his flickering red irises. "Just because I am refraining from killing you now, does not mean I will not change my mind later, if you even live that long." The young vampire's lips curled furiously, though he kept it within himself long enough to see her eyes blurred by tears.

Sara did not make any sound, not even a sob from the crystal droplets tricking down her smooth cheeks, and continued to speak as though her tears were invisible. "I am sorry I am so pathetic in your eyes. I hold no ill will against you."

"You…are not pathetic…" The words flew from his mouth before he had the chance to stop himself. It was too late; the effect had already set in across her once teary-eyed features.

"You do not hate me?" her lips whispered in question, and his frame stiffened from her sudden enlightenment. Joachim emitted a distinct huff through his parted lips, his eyes adhering to hers with a rigid nod.

The dismissal he gave to her clouded dread seemed to cause her tears to stay locked in her pooling eyes. "I shall, perhaps, give you the benefit of the doubt."

Sara's eyes lingered on him, deep sapphire colored eyes that did not blink from his words. She paused briefly as though trying to collect herself, and moved closer to him once again so their forms were plainly visible in the moonlight. The woman, with her beautiful flowing white dress and pearl donned hair, and the vampire with his fluttering indigo colored robes and ivory locks. "As you wish," Her head bowed. "I am the daughter of a merchant. I was only a few months old when my family emigrated from our homeland in France to Romania, where we settled and acquired farmland. My father buys and sells land to other lords and serfs."

A toying sneer played across his lips. "I expected no less. By the by, you mentioned you used to dance. Do you consider yourself skilled?" his grin was succeeded by his casual circling steps around her. Sara had to turn continuously so their eyes remained locked, her frame easing from the lightening anger visible over his striking features.

"I do not know." She replied. "It has been a while since I danced."

"Really?" he challenged, continuing to keep the sneer over his lips. "Are you afraid I might kill you?" Joachim's head raised to reveal the twinge of arrogance placed strategically over his fine prominent features. For although his body defined weakness, there was a sort of majesty about the way he moved, his careful padding steps accompanied by a dull shimmer of silver lining his vest armor and boots. The robes he donned swooshed when he made a courteous bow, before lunging grasp her hands firmly in his. The icy coldness of his skin made her flinch.

"Why do you suddenly wish to dance? I thought you were repulsed by the fact I am human." The Lady Sara's decisive question caused his swift insistence to hesitate. The vampire stood still for a moment, uncertain of what to say while the grip his hands held over hers loosened.

"I..." His embarrassed tone came through despite his strongest effort to hide it beneath his somber expression. "I don't know. I knew someone who loved dancing. However, I can no longer remember clearly…"

His gaze lingered on her, until he felt hers do the same, and within a breath he swept her frame alongside his across the wide floor. quick but easeful steps led them to circle around the wide hallway, up and down its length and back again, with both dancers contained in a mutual silence. The silky warm feeling coursing through his hand placed over her hip had begun to entice him, while the sensation of his icy cold fingers enclosing around hers made the lady's breaths quicken.

"Lord Armster?" her voice was faint in his ear, and he paused from the sound and tilted her frame backward so her right hand, that once rested upon his shoulder, extended just out of reach from the floor. Although their dance had been swift, he held her in place as his hand slid slowly from her hip to her back.

Sara remained limp in his hold and gave no indication of moving to evade his wandering hand completed by piercing eyes focused on her milky white throat. The vampire leveled his face with hers, his former icy blue irises shining a fresh color of crimson under the moonlight. Yet still she spoke not a word of objection, even as his fingertips caressed her back. His face drew closer to hers; until he buried his searching lips overtop her neck. Once they located her rapid beating pulse, his fangs nipped tauntingly, sliding over the soft layer of tissue his fangs longed to invade. "Did you think I would? You did not even struggle against me."

"I trust you." Their lingering gazes broke as his lips unveiled his gleaming white fangs that appeared sharper than daggers, and willing to indulge upon her blood if she dared to breathe.

Joachim buried his face against her naked throat. His own steady breaths began to turn into impassioned exhales of pleasure from the feeling of her rising and falling chest. "You trust too willingly, Sara." His voice whispered like a fading wind. "To place your life in my hands…will result in your own damnation."

"If I am to be damned, may it be so. My life would be an unhappy one if I knew you still suffered. Every day I would picture you in my mind and feel the sorrow in your eyes…and I would be as damned as you are for not saving you."

The vampire hesitated to speak, though in his contemplation he began to slide his face away. The coldness reflected in his eyes intensified, leaving him in a sorrow-filled silence, while his gradual withdraw made the lady shiver in his arms. Her delicate features and serious expression resembled that of a doll, for her smooth skin gleamed like porcelain under the moon's lonely light.

Sara's eyes became wide with terror, which looked over his shoulder and jolted him to his senses. "Joachim, behind you!" In an instant he whirled to face a skeleton's raised bone club, that swung passed him, and aimed at Sara whom he clutched in his arms. The skeleton's movements, though painfully slow, were quick enough to force his immediate recoil, as he shoved Sara away just as the skeleton's club took a harsh blow against his cheek. His face flew to the side, but he lunged out a hand when the skeleton moved to try and strike her again, so that the club stuck his hand and sent him careening onto the floor. "Joachim!" he heard Sara's voice crying out to him from nearby, however his mind became a spinning blur. From the corner of one eye, he saw the skeleton's bony structure quiver in horror as if shamed it had not stuck its target, but the monster did not pursue him – instead it hobbled its way toward the young lady.

The sweet taste of blood pooled in his mouth and down his chin, but it was that of his own, and brought the vampire no pleasure in the least. As he rose to his feet, he wiped the blood away with his sleeve, and stood glaring at the monster in a furious array of rage. "She belongs to _me_!" his voice choked between clots of blood continuing to pool beneath his tongue and spill from his lips. The streaming liquid drizzled down his chin and sprinkled around his feet on the floor. Joachim walked forward, and along with his steps a trail of blood was left in his wake. By then the monster was preparing its attempt to converge upon Sara, who shook and stared at the blood flowing from his wounded flesh. Joachim cursed himself for allowing his other thoughts to weaken their defenses, since his mind had not been prepared for the assault – although that was no longer the case. He sent his swords flying toward the skeleton. The monster's arm was raised to club her. In a matter of seconds, the monster's frail bones severed in half under the blows of each blade.

The swords returned to encircle around him, though his hardened glare remained present upon Sara's concerned flight toward him. Her flowing garments flagged as she ran and opened her arms as if to fling them around his body. She had not come within a few feet when his eyes flashed the color of crimson. "Stay away from me!"

The sight of his bared fangs made Sara hesitate, but not enough to remain in silence. "Joachim! You are wounded. I did not intend this to happen, that monster materialized in a strange light out of the floor-"

"Shut up!" he hissed through gritted enamels. "I do not want your pity!"

She stared at him, shaking her head, while her glistening blue eyes were softened despite his enraged huffs. "The moment we danced, I was not in the presence of a vampire, but of a man." Her words sent chills through his spine, noticeably by the way his eyes blinked, and his attempt to shroud himself in darkness between the moon's illuminations filtering through the stain glass windowpanes. In the shadows his eyes glowed the color of rubies, though his pale skin was swift to keep her focus on his presence. Without a word, the vampire maintained his eye contact upon the floor, whilst he lifted the lady into his arms and carried her out of the hall and into the previous room they passed through.

Sara was abnormally quiet when he hopped his way across the pillars, and overtop the dangerous darting red discs that zoomed in their direction but could not overtake their position above. In just a few jumps he landed safely on the platform, where he was quick to set her down and dash away to the doors with Sara in pursuit. Since his levitation was no longer required, he once again resumed walking, but kept himself a few paces ahead of her with his swords encircling around them both. They continued onward into another hallway that veered sharply to their right, but the second he led her to the hall's intersecting point, Joachim halted in place and withheld a gasp at seeing what awaited them. "Stay back!" his voice commanded boldly, and he glanced back at her to ensure she had indeed stopped walking. Joachim's eyes narrowed from the light thumping pitter patters resounding down the dimly lit hall in their direction. The sounds drew nearer and nearer to them. "Get out of here, quickly! I will deal with them myself!"

"What do you mean?" She did not move, and the fact she remained caused his eyes to burn like fiery embers in the darkness.

"Run!" The lady finally showed a sign of compliance the moment she turned to flee, but he already knew it was too late. Joachim stared down the corridor once again, where dozens of little dwarf-like monsters were bounding off the walls and across the floor toward her. Wielded in both hands of every single monster were axes, and their skin was sickly green complete with two overhanging antennae on their heads. The small humanoid monsters were quick as lightning, and there were so many at once Joachim could not focus his energies on a single one in particular. "_Sara!" _he turned to her quivering form, that had once again locked itself in place like a statue, and before he realized what he had done, he covered her with his own body. The force of his dive knocked her against the wall, as he pressed his back as close to her as he could, all the while sending his swords forth in a dizzying array of slashing metal.

Although his furious attack managed to destroy some of the bounding little creatures, they were ones in a similar direction, leaving the rest to lunge upon his vulnerable state in an attempt to attack the lady behind him. Joachim shouted and stared behind them at his swords returning at his bidding, but they were too late for the swift paces of the lunging green monsters. The second they raised their axes and drew them down upon her, he pressed her as far back as he could, as an array of pain flooded through him upon feeling his skin sear from the slash of their axes. Blood flew like rain into the air and split overtop the marble floor as they plunged upon him like a swarm of angry wasps.

Although their axes would have severed the limbs of a normal man, his rage and pain managed to allow him to sustain their blows. He heard Sara's voice screaming at the sight of his blood trickling from the slashes in his arms and legs. With a bitter snarl, he commanded his swords to continue hacking and slashing madly at the little green creatures. Demon blood flowed across the floor from the corpses of the monsters splattered over the corridor's floor and walls. In the haze of blood, his eyes caught sight of Sara flying toward the demons like a dove, the white skirt of her dress fanning around her like outstretched wings. "What are you-" Before the words fled his lips, her hand snatched the dagger he kept beneath his robes. The woman whirled away from him, clutching the dagger in her hand until she plunged the blade of the weapon into the back of an assaulting demon. He tried to pull her toward the wall but she seemed indifferent to him, her eyes locking upon the demon while she withdrew it to attack another. Her voice, once soft, cried out fiercely. "Get away!"

Streams of blood poured from his wounded body, his breaths reduced to gasps and pants accompanied by his infuriated wild eyes. The vampire's screams silenced only when he felt the warmth of her touch, while she applied pressure to his wounds to stop the bleeding. The horror in her eyes only succeeded in fueling his fiery temperament. "I told you to run!" his voice rasped between pants, as he struggled to get to his feet. The pain of helplessness began to wear across his hardened features.

Sara grasped around his shoulders insistently, pulling him up before he could muster the strength to object. "You were in danger; how could you expect me to leave you?"

"I don't want your help!" His eyes blazed, for he was unable to comprehend what had just transpired. "How did you…know…I keep a dagger with me? It seems you are not as naïve as you seem."

Sara returned his remark with a weak smile. "You have suffered enough for my sake!" Sara's calm reply was countered by the scorning curl of his lips, but he was consumed in a reluctant silence when she leaned over and wrapped his arm around her back to support him. With slow, patient steps, she urged him forward. "When you fell earlier, I noticed a dagger hidden under your robes. I will not let you face these monsters alone."

Despite his pain, a tiny smile seemed to threaten to break through his scowling expression. Joachim winced, allowing her to take his arm and support him as they hurried down the hallway. "How clever of you," he rasped, his eyes tinting a shade of red. "I should have been more careful. I suppose you planned to kill me with it-"

"Kill you?" Her eyes widened and she nearly halted, her soft lips curling into a slight frown. When she continued, her voice quavered. "Must you jump to conclusions about me, Lord Armster? Since the moment we met, you have unfairly passed judgment upon me!"

"I will do whatever I wish," The creature sneered, his eyes glowing an even brighter shade of red in spite of his agony. With a shuddering gasp, he stumbled, barely keeping himself upright as they hurried along. "Humans have judged me more often than you can imagine, Sara. When I was human, they called me the white devil. As a vampire, they say I am a fiend and a monster. If you knew the crimes I committed, perhaps, you would judge me just the same."

"You don't know that." Sara sighed. "Though I am ignorant about the evils of this world, I know you are not among them."

"You know nothing!" He snapped. Blood continued to flow freely from his wounds and dotted the floor behind him as he staggered onward. "Foolish girl…you could have slain me with my own dagger! If you are unable to kill me, perhaps, I will demonstrate why you should have done it when you had the chance!"

Even though his strength was waning, the creature lunged upon her with the ferocity of a lion. In that moment, all he knew was the agonizing pain of his wounds and his hunger. Stunned by his sudden violence, Sara jumped back, narrowly avoiding his gnashing incisors. One of his hands seized her by the arm and restrained her in his iron-like grip. "Stop it, Joachim! You must stop!" The sound of her screams filled the entire hallway. "I do not wish to harm you! You protected me from those creatures, yet now, you know not your own mind-"

"How dare you accuse me of madness!" The grip he held upon her tightened. Rage blazed in his eyes as he bared his fangs. "You are nothing! I care not what Walter wishes, for the idea of drinking from you is worth the risk! Perhaps, I shall find out why Leon Belmont would do anything to save you. Though you will not kill me, I will kill…_you_!" Overcome by rage, he pushed her onto the ground and heard her back collide against the floor. Something inside him screamed for him to desist…and for a brief moment, he hesitated. The idea of harming her – killing her – was enough to make him wretch. He did not understand what drove him to attack her without warning. Despite his efforts to protect her from the countless threats within the castle, he could not face the possibility of _himself_ as her true threat. Pain swelled through his legs and arms as blood gushed over the floor from his open wounds.

With mechanical indifference, he kneeled beside her and lowered his face beside her neck, taking in the sweet scent of her flesh and blood. A part of him still tried to resist the terrible urge building inside his tainted soul. The creature forced his mouth closed and felt his body shudder in objection, as a lightheaded sensation overwhelmed his strength. The wounds he sustained were more severe than he anticipated. Although his strength should have been superior, his grip upon her began to weaken.

Joachim's breaths began to quicken as his hunger desperately sought to devour the life beneath him. Yet, to his surprise, Sara succeeded in twisting herself free from his embrace. Before he realized what she was doing, the woman grasped him by the collar of his robe and pulled him down onto his side. In a matter of seconds, her deceptively fragile form wrestled against him over the floor. Sara's eyes were wide with fear as she fought unsuccessfully to free herself completely from his grasp. Joachim grasped her by the wrist, attempting to wrench the dagger free from her hand, whilst he gnashed his teeth. "Do you think you can overpower me?" His voice made the hallway tremble. "Lowly human! I should have known, you would try to-"

"I don't want to hurt you, Joachim!" Sara screamed. Fear filled every fiber of her being as she struggled against his violent assaults. "Please, stop! I know this is not your fault; you are not in control of yourself!"

Though her pleas were valiant, he could not hear them. All he heard was the sound of her heavy breaths and heart pounding rapidly against her ribcage. Nevertheless, though he was on top of her, Sara had the unexpected advantage. He was weakened from battle and unable to fully restrain her. The woman managed to free her wrist containing the dagger from his grasp just as his fangs descended upon her neck. He saw her eyes meet his in that fatal moment, he saw her draw a breath and hesitate. Their eyes remained locked when she drew the weapon back.

A horrible pain filled his chest as the steel object penetrated through his armor and flesh. All at once, his strength departed and he coughed – tasting the familiar tang of blood in his mouth. However, he recognized instantly that the blood he tasted was not hers, but his own. Anguished gurgled cries escaped his throat as he collapsed on his front across the floor. "Joachim!" Sara called his name but everything around him was beginning to fade. He was conscious long enough to realize that she deliberately – and narrowly – missed his heart.

"Why…didn't you…kill…me?" He rasped. A dark red liquid began to pool around him on the floor.

Panting and exhausted, Sara staggered to her feet, her hand still clutching the bloody dagger, and released a terrified sob. He half expected her to run away but she kneeled next to him instead. "Your lord, Walter, made you this way." Though her voice was grave, the empathy in her eyes made him want to weep. "Killing you would be a sin. I will not kill an innocent man."

"Innocent?" He gasped. With the last of his strength, he lifted his hand and pointed a clawed finger at her. The youth's pale eyes became glassy. "I…am…guilty of more crimes than you can imagine. I tried to kill you…and I would have, if you had not…"

"You need salvation, not punishment." She replied, dropping the dagger on the floor by her feet. "Though I have witnessed great cruelty from you, I have also witnessed great kindness as well. You must have smelled the blood from those monsters and lost control. I can see that you are gradually falling deeper into the darkness. Please, help me stop Walter from harming others. No one else should suffer your fate."

Amidst his blood and pain, her hand took his and held it for a long time. "You…must leave," he whispered. As he began to slip into unconsciousness, he forced the words from his throat. "If you stay…Walter will…" Despite the determination in her eyes, the youth merely released a regretful sigh. "I will not let him. Not this time. Not again…but if you stay in this place with me…you…you could…"

"Say nothing more," She whispered. Her voice seemed to lull him as darkness began to encompass his mind. "I will not leave you, Lord Armster."

Joachim remembered someone had told him something very similar. Yet, the hard her tried to remember, the fainter his memories became. With a haggard breath, he drew his hand to her face, feeling her cheek as a smile slowly crossed his lips. "I know."


	30. Chapter 30: Promise

**Author's Note: **It took me a while to write this, but I wanted to spend some time developing Sara's character. Sara Trantoul really doesn't get enough attention in fanfics and I don't recall reading any stories that focus on what happened to her in Eternal Night (let alone any involving Sara and Joachim in Eternal Night). Since there is so little for me to go off of, I hope this chapter will be an interesting read and fill in the gaps between Sara's capture and Leon's arrival. :)

Reviews are always welcome and appreciated, as always. Feedback helps me improve this story and I take the comments I receive seriously. Horray on reaching 100 reviews for _Melancholia_! Thank you for your continued support! (^-^)

Special Thanks: **LateNiteSlacker** for beta reading this chapter, providing great suggestions, and fixing my grammatical mistakes. This story wouldn't be nearly as well-written without you, and I really appreciate the time you spend reading my work!

More special thanks go to **danceofgold**, who has taken a lot of time to leave me feedback about this story, as well as AzariyaBelmont (always the first to review, haha! I will make a dedication to you in a chapter when Walter re-appears...which should be in a chapter or two ;)

Also, Chapter 30 is dedicated to **TheGhostisReal** (hope you are still reading...I always loved your feedback), & **RaharMoonfire **(an awesome writer and long-time reviewer).

* * *

**Chapter XXX**

He had lost so much blood that the world around him became a blur of darkness and sound. Sara was by his side, holding his hand, and gazing anxiously at his face. When her crystalline eyes met his, she sighed with relief. "You are awake, at last. I feared the worst." A soft smile spread across her lips. The pale moonlight streaming through the stained glass windows in the hallway cast an ethereal illumination around her delicate form. The long, petal-like skirt of her ivory dress fluttered over the floor like folded wings. The fine embroidery on her azure blue vest gleamed, emphasizing her illustrious skin and chestnut brown hair.

Joachim bolted upright – and winced when needles of pain ran through his chest like wildfire. His hand flew to the wound, clutching it protectively, and he hissed when she reached out to examine it. "Don't touch me!" He snapped. "It seems that your innocent countenance veils great cunning, Lady Trantoul. I wonder if your beloved Leon Belmont knows?"

Sara glanced urgently over her shoulder. Thick locks of glossy brown hair spilled down her shoulders and back. In the moonlight, her eyes sparkled with fervent optimism. "I'm glad you are all right. I waited for you to awaken for hours but your wound did not cease bleeding until a few minutes ago."

Despite the agony reaping through him, the creature's superior hearing detected numerous footsteps approaching them around the corner of the hallway. "Monsters are coming but I can't fight them in this condition," he muttered, and winced from the pain. His hand brushed across the torn flesh. Warm, sticky blood stained his fingers crimson.

"We must leave immediately!" Sara replied urgently. It took a few moments for him to regain his balance and stand upright. His wounds were grave, and even the simplest task of walking challenged the limits of his powers. The lady's delicate lips formed a smile and she bowed her head. "I tried to stop the bleeding as best I could, but it seems my efforts were not enough. Lord Armster, I did not wish to harm you; to see you in pain fills me with sorrow. Now, I understand the nature of vampirism…"

"I know you missed my heart deliberately." The noise from the approaching monsters threatened to distract him, but he forced himself to continue. The loss of blood made his face look as white as bed linen. The creature's lips were dry and cracked, and his eyes were dull from fatigue. "I…tried to hurt you, Sara. Perhaps, your wisdom is greater than my own. It is far easier to kill than to show mercy, especially to one undeserving of it."

Sara's smile broadened and she bowed her head, veiling her eyes behind the loose coils of her hair. "Even though I am an inferior human, I am not your enemy."

"Inferior?" He repeated the word to himself, whilst his eyes looked away from her to the floor. "Your humanity…and kindness…makes you worthy of _some_ respect. However, you are an exception, for all humans are worthless."

"Do you truly think so?" A twinge of injury appeared in her eyes when she added. "Leon is different. I don't think he would want to harm you, either. He is brave and noble, just as you are. Sometimes I feel that I am unworthy of his love. I am merely a merchant's daughter…hardly a baroness or a lady."

"Unworthy?" He scoffed, suppressing the urge to laugh. Nevertheless, the smirk pressed upon his lips mocked her. "What difference will your title make, for he has already chosen you to be his wife? Title is of no significance; only fools believe it is. Let us hope that he lives long enough to say his vows at the altar. Indeed, I look forward to meeting your fiancé…"

Sara's smile faded. With a sigh, she resumed walking down the hallway, not seeming to care if he accompanied her or not. Her footsteps were barely audible, and her voice firmed. "You seem to enjoy killing. Does your lust for blood know no bounds? I would rather you have killed me, than have me live to watch Leon die by your swords. Remember your lord's mercilessness toward you, and perhaps, reflect upon your own towards others. It is clear, you became a vampire against your will. The injustices of this world drive you to seek retribution. Yet, the more you make others suffer, the greater suffering you bring upon yourself."

Joachim limped after her, trying to suppress the temptation to cry out from the searing pain in his chest. The monsters would be upon them at any moment, yet Sara's focus upon him made her indifferent to the danger she was in. With a huff, he hurried beside her, allowing her to take hold of his arm to support him again. "A fine sentiment," he snarled. "But you have never known suffering, Sara. I pray you never do."

"Alas, tis' true," she sighed. A sad glint appeared in her eyes. "My nursemaid sheltered me as a child. Although my life is blessed, I do not like to see you this way, Lord Armster."

Once they reached the doors and came upon the chapel's entranceway, Joachim paused to look at her, his steely eyes boring into the depths of her soul. She was innocent – perhaps too innocent – for his tainted heart to comprehend. Nevertheless, he knew she was drawn to help him like a moth to a flame. A tremor of unease filled him when he began to reminisce; recalling the vague memories locked away inside his mind. "The nursemaid you spoke of…" he whispered. "Served me from the time I was born. It seems so long ago, now…so very long ago…"

Sara's eyes widened. Nearly at loss, she stared at him for a long time until she calmed once again. The woman placed a hand over her mouth, unsure of whether to respond with joy or sorrow. "I did not know…Anneliese did not mention her previous family very frequently. It makes sense, for your father is Zaeviean Armster! You are of noble blood, a lord-"

"I don't want to talk about it-" He began, though her growing interest compelled her to persist despite his reluctance to broach the subject.

"That means…" Sara hesitated. "You were turned recently. What of your family, Lord Armster? Your father and your wife surely miss you-"

"_Family_?" A flash of red appeared in his eyes. As if her words were poisonous, he withdrew from her at once, and staggered toward the balcony steps where the exit platform glowed in silent welcome. With the viciousness of a devil, his icy words threatened to shatter her like glass. "I have none, for they are all _dead_!" He turned around to face her, parted his lips, and bared his needle-like fangs. "When I was human, I was nothing but an invalid. Even my own father was ashamed to speak of me. That was my legacy as a lord."

"Surely your life as a human was not empty of all happiness?" Sara replied, refusing to look away despite his unpredictable anger. "You have not told me about your wife-"

"My wife?" The creature chuckled dryly. "I was never married. What woman would want to-"

"I apologize," She bowed her head. "You called me by another name several times…I thought she was your wife. My assumption was unfounded."

An immense emotion filled him which he could not describe. All at once, Joachim's throat tightened and suffocated his voice. Vague memories entered his mind but he could not recall them clearly. Nearly breathless, he had to lean on the balcony railing to remain standing. "My…wife?" Bright green eyes filtered through his thoughts. He stared at Sara for a long moment, seeing the image of another overlap her in his mind. He watched her ivory dress turn amethyst; and her dark brown hair form into ebony ringlets. Sara's smile was the same as the woman in his memory. With an anguished gasp, he wrung his hands. "My…wife…if only…"

Sara swept up the balcony steps after him with the swiftness of a bird. Without hesitating, she placed a hand upon his own, never once flinching despite the icy feel of his skin. "Joachim," her voice lowered, attempting to soothe his anxiety. "Forgive me, it is not my place-"

"No." He gave her a sullen glance. The warmth of her hand made him pause. Although he wished to hate her for her concern, a part of him needed to speak, for Sara's beauty and softness comforted him more than he wished to admit.

"I promised I would stay with you, Lord Armster, and I will not leave you."

Tears threatened to build in his eyes. He stubbornly held them back, and grimaced when their eyes met. "You are not of this world, Sara…and neither was she. I tried to warn her, but like you, she refused…"

"I see." Sara whispered. "Should Leon come, I am not leaving this place without you. Leaving you here, completely alone, would be an injustice after all you have done."

"Injustice?" Somehow, he managed to smile in spite of himself. "Keeping you here would be an injustice, to you and your betrothed. Don't forget, Baron Belmont is risking his life for your sake!"

"You were a lord!" Sara shook her head in objection, her voice straining. "Surely, there is somewhere else you could live in peace – a manor perhaps – where you could rejoin human society, if only rarely seen by other people. No one would know what you are, as long as you concealed your vampirism-"

"That's out of the question!" He snapped, feeling his lower lip curl in frustration. "You think being a vampire is something that can simply be _concealed_? Have you already forgotten that, merely hours ago, I tried to kill you?"

"There must be another way!" Sara cried, refusing to concede to the creature's antipathy. "I fear that, should you rule Eternal Night, the power you obtain will not satisfy you. Is this what she would have wanted for you?"

"She deserved far more," he whispered. "Than a disgraced lord and undead monster."

"You are not a disgrace-"

"Of course, she said the same. Yet, you don't know the crimes I committed, Sara. I took her innocence, made her with child, and watched her grieve when its life and my own were stolen. As a vampire, I sought her out, and upon finding her, destroyed her with my hate. Her love for me killed her…_I kill her_." The admission was like daggers to his heart, but he spoke it nonetheless. Sudden anger and grief flooded through him when he spoke those fatal words. The swords aligned behind his back flew away toward the windowpanes surrounding the ornamental entranceway. Whether he was aware of what he had done was uncertain even to him. Sheets of stained glass shattered and fell, sprinkling flecks of color across the floor like broken rainbows. He looked at her in the eye, his voice resuming its former harshness as he continued. "It was my fault! I have become this…this…lecherous, murderous _thing_. The only thing I have left is this castle – and I will be its master soon enough!"

"That is not all you have left." Sara whispered, and she fell silent for a long time. Pieces of stained glass surrounded her where she stood. He watched her fold her hands in front of her, the locks of her hair spilling gracefully around her shoulders. With the dignity of a saint, her eyes never left his. "I will be with you, Lord Armster. I wish for you to be freed from Walter's tyranny."

Something about his prisoner kept him alive, even though he wanted to despise her. Sara had nearly killed him when she drove the dagger through his chest. The searing pain throughout his entire body warned him of that fact. Although he was immortal, her actions reminded him that his existence could still be erased from the world. A bitter hiss escaped through his gritted enamels as he waited for the pain to subside. He could already feel his flesh healing – the nerves and veins closing and regenerating with startling efficiency. It would have taken months for a human to recover from the wounds he suffered. Nearly succumbing to the agony, he sank to his knees on the floor, unable to sustain his own body. Ironically, walking tired him as much as a vampire as it did as a human. Levitating would have been effortless, yet, he could not bring himself to do it in Sara's presence. Without voicing it, an aspect of his soul desperately longed to be human again. Everything about his vampiric state was suddenly unnatural and frightening.

Sara's lips quivered when she saw him fall. Though concern reflected in her eyes, her voice retained its sweetness. "All is not lost unless you allow it to be. Promise me no matter what happens, you will persevere. Please don't give up, Joachim."

His eyes widened into saucers, for he could scarcely give a reply to deny her request. Vaguely, he remembered that someone he once knew pleaded for the same thing. With a gasp, he tried to break their gaze. Even though Sara was threatened by death she always thought of him. "I will, for you."

"You may not believe in yourself," Sara began. Tears began to form in her eyes as she approached and stood before him, placing a hand upon his shoulder. Her dainty fingers lightly combed the silken strands of his ivory hair. She tilted her head, gazing down upon him with the benevolence of an angel, whilst her voice filled the lonely silence surrounding them. "But I believe in who you are – someone with the heart of a human and the grace of a nobleman. A beautiful and proud man."

Despite his rage and pain, her lovely countenance melted the ice in his veins, and a wave of shame overtook his anger. His lips pursed, inside his soul wanted to scream, but his voice quivered. "Why do you look upon me without the slightest condemnation?"

Sara's lips formed a weak smile. "You still possess a human heart, and always will, no matter how many centuries pass."

For the first time since they met, a warm smile spread across his lips. The sorrow inside him seemed to disappear when he heard her speak. Nothing, not even his own self-loathing, would deter Lady Trantoul's devotion. With a sigh, the creature rose to his feet, silently gazing upon her lovely face. Without speaking, he lifted his hand and placed it lightly upon her cheek, caressing the soft flesh with his thumb. He had to be careful not to scratch her with his claw-like nails, though she did not flinch. The smile remained upon Sara's face until he drew her toward him, his pale eyes glinting with an intensity that made her gasp. The vampire lowered his face toward her own, skimming her cheek with his lips – feeling her warmth against his cold, pasty skin. His lips brushed across Sara's, greedily adoring the perfection of her doll-like visage and crystalline eyes. Sara's breath hitched, and her body tensed. Though she did not turn from him, he sensed her hesitation, and swiftly drew away.

Casting his eyes to the floor, he walked toward the teleport disc, beckoning her to follow. "Let us depart from here, Lady Trantoul. There are other places I would like to show you."

Without a word, Sara nodded in agreement.

* * *

They entered the castle's ancient garden. Three circular moonbeams filtered across the earthy floor; intricate vines climbed up its crumbling walls. Carvings of saints adorned stone panels in the walls with hands cupped and heads bowed in prayer. Patches of grass sprouted from the room's worn floor stonework. Damp, heavy air filled Joachim's lungs the moment they arrived in the garden's entranceway; and condensation began to cover his cold skin. Joachim wiped his brow in discomfort, whilst Sara stepped off the platform, her eyes widening in surprise. "Are we in…some kind of garden?" She approached the circular light reflected upon the floor and paused to admire the garden's enchanting ambiance. "Although this is Eternal Night, the moon gives the illusion of sunlight and daytime. Despite the darkness, plants still grow here…"

His eyes followed her, watching her bend over to the violets growing in the pale light. A scowl crossed his lips, for he envied Sara's innocent fascination with the castle. Deep within himself, he wished he could share her curiosity. Some aspects of the castle were still awe-inspiring; however, he had grown weary of never-ending darkness. It pained him to think that the night had lost the wonder it once held in his imagination. Whereas Sara saw brilliant streams of moonlight, his eyes saw only shadows creeping along the walls like a thousand reaching hands waiting to pull him into the abyss. The image made the creature shudder, whilst his icy voice stripped Sara of her wonder like frost upon a flower. "For humans, this garden is simply another accursed grave. The plants here are toxic; their enticing scent will draw you to them, but their poison will infect your lungs and corrode your flesh."

"How terrible it must have been for those men who died here!" Sara's smile weakened, and the joy she felt threatened to fade under the intensity of his remark. "The vampire, Walter, who forced you to abduct me is more conniving than I thought. I can scarcely imagine him wandering about this garden, for its loveliness and grandeur seems to resemble that of Eden. Like the serpent, Walter's guise of wisdom masks his ill-intentions."

A low chuckle vibrated through Joachim's throat. "Ah, Walter." His lips curled like the wilted petals of a rose, and displayed the blackened wound the demon had created inside his soul. "My _master_ has more power than he knows what to do with. For centuries he has toyed with human love; stealing away innocents who have never wronged him. Walter thinks he is so very clever, but his games are merely a way to escape boredom."

"Boredom?" Sara repeated the offensive word to herself, her eyes narrowing for the first time since they met. Almost instantly, her once kindly voice became stern. "Human lives are not playthings for immortals!" She cried, and folded her arms across her chest. The cross look on her face nearly made Joachim want to laugh, for he was unaccustomed to her anger. He could feel her frustration in that moment – the same sorrow and anger that he felt when he, too, suffered under the red-haired lord's power. "I don't understand why you refer to Walter as your master, for he cannot enslave your soul to his will! I wonder if Walter secretly envies humans. Unlike humans, he shall spend eternity in the shadows. I understand why boredom would overcome Walter – eternity would devour his innocence, until the beauty of this garden – nay the world – is lost. Perhaps, if I were to formally meet him-"

"That's out of the question!" Joachim hissed. Suddenly, a fire appeared in his eyes and he shook his head, refusing to allow her to continue. His face grew pale once again, and he had to lean against the garden wall for support. The girl was more naïve than he imagined, and he was uncertain about whether he would have to protect her from Walter or her own ideals. The creature abruptly swept in front of the young woman, his slender form towering over her as he hissed under his breath. "Walter has little interest in you at the moment. Do not provoke him, or else your pretty neck will be snapped in half like a chicken's and drained of blood. Walter was never human; you cannot reason with him, and he will never release you…willingly."

"I want him to release _you_." Though she possessed the beauty and grace of Eve, her determination astonished him. "There must be something I can do to convince him, something I can offer in exchange-"

"Such as?" The creature's steely eyes became alight with amusement. He chuckled and flicked his hand in dismissal, whilst a sarcastic sneer played across his lips. "Do you know a couple who would volunteer to play his game? You have nothing to bargain with."

Exhausted, Sara sighed and sat down upon a grassy spot to rest. Whether she was frustrated or simply tired, he could not discern clearly. She seemed to become lost within her own thoughts. Though she tried to hide her anxiety, he regretted his insensitivity. The sounds of crickets and running water provided little consolation. "Do you wish to rest?" He asked tentatively. The woman had endured enough traumatic experiences to last a lifetime. She seemed to walk more slowly through the garden, and her eyes had become dull from exhaustion.

"If it is not too much trouble," Sara replied, "Can we stay here for a while? My strength is, regrettably, a shadow of your own."

Joachim returned to the wall and leaned against it. Despite his effort to feign disinterest, he gave her a concerned look. Sara's skin seemed even paler than he initially realized. "As you wish," Uncertain of what to say next, the youth kept his distance. "Forgive me, I seem to forget that humans require sleep. I have not slept in a bed since I was…" Memories of Walter pursuing him filtered into his thoughts. At once, he fell into silence.

Sara gazed at him for a long time, observing his fine robes and shining armor with unexpected interest. Perhaps, in an attempt to ease his distress, she reminisced. "I wish we could have met under better circumstances, Lord Armster. I wonder what you were like when you were human. Tis' a shame we did not know each other then…"

"Why?" Joachim's brow furrowed. "I was a foolish young man, who hated his obligations as a lord. The only thing that brought me joy was literature. In the evening, I often read in front of the fireplace until well into the night. Books became my companions; a way to escape the rebuke I experienced from my illness. During the daytime, my happiness was not sought through the company of humans, but through my horse. I'm afraid he is the only friend I have, and I expect he is grazing somewhere about the garden."

He observed her carefully, and watched her turn to admire the portrait of an angel carved into the wall with child-like curiosity. Upon hearing him speak, Sara's despondency lifted into a warm smile as she cupped her hands in front of her. "You have a horse? Where can we find him?"

"Cojiro will find us. If I summon him, he will be here within moments. Though I warn you, he is…different from a normal horse. You may not take a liking to him as he is, now."

It surprised him when Sara laughed. "How can I dislike what I do not know? I have loved horses since I was a child. My father was a gentle soul, who always nurtured my affections. Why, my mother was quite cross when my father agreed to teach me how to ride a horse! She said it was uncouth for a woman to mount the back of a beast, yet my father persuaded her it would do no harm, so long as I practiced my weaving." Though she smiled, sadness suddenly appeared in her eyes, and her head lowered.

Joachim reflected upon the fact that, unlike Sara, he had no family to miss, or to miss him. He assumed that his pain was great because he was alone, without bothering to understand her grief. A surge of guilt welled in his heart as he considered her longing. If he could have, he would have undone his crime in an instant and returned her to the loving arms of her mother and father. Yet, he gritted his teeth and looked away, unable to stand the sight of her anguish and his own regret. "I heard my mother loved Arabian horses; my father brought a few back with him from the east."

Sara looked up at him curiously, her eyes widening. "Your mother?" She asked. "When you speak of her, you sound so very sad, Lord Armster."

"I did not know her," he replied airily. More than anything, he did not wish to delve into the subject. Walter's face appeared in his mind like a specter. Amidst his eroding memory, the image of his mother's blood-spattered portrait and the ebony stone threatened to shatter the peace he was desperate to maintain within himself. "She died in childbirth, and my father refused to remarry. The crusades kept my father away from home for months at a time. I always wanted to join him, and when I was well enough, I learned to ride. My instructor thought I took to the sport easily. I had already tamed Cojiro since his birth, and breaking him was of little difficulty. Did you ride often as a child?"

"My father owned many horses, most of which were sent away to the crusades. When he taught me how to ride, he let me sit upon his favorite horse and led it about the grounds on our estate. My mother often called me away to do some task or another, which interrupted my lessons. As my skills improved, I returned to the fields at dusk to practice while my mother was preoccupied with entertaining guests. Perhaps, some of my most blessed moments are when my father and I rode together." The lady's smile, though innocent, guided her thoughts. "Sadly, our estate was attacked by robbers who took our horses during the night. My mother was displeased; but claimed it was God's will that distractions could no longer hinder my duty to become a fine young lady. I was their only daughter; my brother was killed in the East."

"You had a brother?" Joachim gave her a surprised look. The moment he saw the happiness drain from her face, he regretted his curiosity. In an attempt to mitigate her grief, he bowed deeply. "This subject clearly causes you woe; I did not mean to offend, Lady Trantoul." Never had he submitted to a human. The idea should have disgusted him, but it only enhanced his admiration of her composed disposition. He envied Sara's unwillingness to surrender her hope to despair.

"Please do not worry," She replied, "He was far older than I, and I hardly knew him. Whenever he returned from the East, he would give me scarves of colored silk and exotic tapestries of women with dark hair and eyes. My mother never approved of Tristan becoming a soldier…for she wanted my brother to inherit the estate and manage our lands. He was a talented horse trainer; my father said his love of animals was infectious. Indeed, when hunting season came, my brother could not even harm a fly. My father said he simply came on expeditions to sightsee; leaving the task of killing to him. I do not understand what prompted Tristan to join the crusades…he told me once, during his last return home, that when his horse was felled by an arrow on the battlefield, it seemed rather unjust for God's innocent creatures to suffer for our sins. After he returned to the east, I never saw him again." Sara's expression was pensive, and she said no more.

"If it pleases you," Joachim began, taking note of her paling face. "I will summon Cojiro, who shall carry us through the garden. You do not look well…"

"I assure you, I am fine." Sara smiled reassuringly.

Nevertheless, he saw through her guise easily. He, more than most, knew what illness looked like. Sara's waning strength warned him of her exhaustion, however, he did not want to press the subject for fear of increasing her distress. Joachim walked toward the center of the room and stood with her in the moonlight. The faint image of a smile creased the corners of his lips as he drew a breath and whistled the familiar tune. His song disrupted the garden's midnight activities, and silenced the frequent chirping of the crickets hiding in the grass. After a few moments passed, Sara turned toward the door upon hearing the faint whinnying cry of a horse. Repetitive thumping hoof beats pounded against the ground and grew closer to where they stood.

"Joachim, is that…your horse?" Sara exclaimed, nearly jumping back in surprise when her eyes caught sight of the transparent beast as it leapt through the door of the room.

Though the sound of its steps resounded through the garden, its hooves did not touch the ground.

Its body changed into its solid form, revealing its long shimmering tresses and white, filmy eyes. Its finely pointed ears swiveled to and fro when it slowed to a walk and approached its master. The equine's muscled legs were long and sleek, and its lustrous coat gleamed like silver snow in the moonlight. Upon reaching Joachim, the equine buried its muzzle into his shoulder with an affectionate whicker. He ran his hand across the horse's sloping neck, beckoning Sara to approach. "Do not be afraid." He assured. "Cojiro will do you no harm, although he might be displeased to find I do not have any treats on hand."

"Perhaps, this will do?" Sara extended her hand and opened her palm, revealing a clump of violets she had picked earlier. The horse turned its head and dipped its muzzle into her hand in acceptance of her offer. The equine's pearly enamels crunched down upon the flowers as she stroked its head, her soft voice whispering in its ear. "You are as gracious as your master, and beautiful, too. I have never seen a horse as lovely as you are. Like the fabled unicorn, I scarcely know whether you are real or illusionary."

"If you wish, we can ride on his back through the garden. It seems he has taken quite a liking to you, Lady Trantoul." When Sara nodded in agreement, he took her round the waist and lifted her onto the horse's back. Sara was so light that he was astonished to find she weighed almost nothing at all. He allowed her to adjust the skirt of her dress before he mounted behind her. His ivory hair fell around his face like waves of silk, and his usual gloom was overcome by affectionate sentiments. Sara's closeness to him made his entire body almost tremble with apprehension. The last time they were that near to each other, he almost killed her. With a sigh, he leaned forward. "I hope you will forgive me," He whispered, "For my treatment of you earlier. Though I am a monster, I will never hurt you again." As the horse trotted toward the door, Joachim opened it with his mind to admit them into the rooms beyond.

Sara kept her balance well, and seemed comforted by the animal's presence – as well as the vampire's. "Lord Armster," she began. "The creature that attacked me was not you, for Joachim Armster is a man, and not a monster. Yet, I wonder if true monsters dwell within this garden? I have yet to see them…and Walter Bernhard…"

"Stop addressing me as a lord." His voice had become faint, meeting the twinge of irritation within his flickering irises. "I no longer have a title to proclaim."

"I understand," Sara replied, looking at him over her shoulder. "However, the only way for you to relinquish your title, is if you to renounce it before your subjects."

"Yes, I suppose that is true. That is, if I had any subjects left…" A wicked smile spread across his lips, his eyes glinting a hint of red in the pale moonlight. Sara shifted to forward to glimpse at the strange mist surrounding the silvery equine. "Do not be afraid of monsters while I am present. I have seen some demons that can bury themselves into the earth, and others that are shaped like swords. The only monster we must be concerned about is that wretched snake woman-"

Sara gasped, and half-turned to look at him with widened eyes. "Are you saying even legendary monsters can be found here? I have read about her in legends, the seductive woman who can control snakes and turn people to stone! Did you fight her?"

Joachim raised his head high, and with a downward cast upon her, he summoned one of his swords left dormant in their alignment behind his back. The loud pang of metal whirled through the air, until one of his delicate hands grasped its hilt and casually rested the blade against his inner shoulder. "I did some pruning, and cut her down to size."

They entered one of the most plant-inhabited areas, where plants of every sort grew along the walls, which were covered by intertwining vines and tall prickly cactuses. A stone lion's head was placed high up the wall on the opposite side of the room above the wooden door. Water gushed from the lion's open mouth and flowed down a channel on a ledge along the walls of the rectangular space. Above them, a broken domed roof made of glass allowed them a glimpse of the star dotted sky. When the horse reached the center of the room, Joachim eased it to a halt and dismounted.

The floor was covered with soil and felt soft under his boots. As he walked, he avoided rotting trunks of fallen trees that were strewn about the room. "Never underestimate Walter's cunning, Lady Trantoul. My powers pale beside his, and I am nothing compared with his strength." Of course, he knew Sara was ignorant of his potential. Despite his frail appearance, he had grown considerably stronger over time. Secretly, within himself, his ambition to overthrow Walter was unchanged. _You are innocent Sara, and do not understand just how vulnerable you are as a human. Very soon, I will defeat Walter myself, and this castle will belong to me. I know it is not your wish, but I am much stronger than I look…and far dangerous than my master is. _

Rage surged beneath his composed façade, showing only when his hands balled into fists. Amidst the foliage in the garden his robes, elaborately designed boots, and chest armor gave him an elegant, yet illusive image of a human aristocrat. However, death's pale hand drained all the life from him, so that his skin glowed a ghostly white hue. His strange appearance enhanced the tenseness in his voice when he continued. "You have no idea what he is capable of. I will try to bide you more time until Baron Belmont arrives. At all costs, you must not become the focus of Walter's attention. However, be wary of me, for I am inhuman. I have the guise of a man but I am fallen."

"Why do you loathe yourself so profoundly?" Sara asked. Without requiring his aid, she dismounted and walked toward him, her sapphire colored eyes widening in concern. Upon seeing her approach, Joachim stepped back, forcing a distance to remain between them. Sara folded her hands in front of her, and her eyes never left him for a moment. "God will forgive you for your sins."

"Perhaps, if God exists." With a sigh, he turned away. "Yet, I wonder…would you?"

Sara nodded resolutely. "Of course I would-"

A red flicker appeared in his eyes, and his voice abruptly darkened. Without turning round to face her, a sardonic grin crossed his lips. "Walter's mastery extends beyond power alone. I would rather confess to you than to God my…indiscretions."

"What indiscretions?" She asked.

Sensing her uncertainty, the creature's head lowered. "Walter and I…are bound by a much greater bond than blood," he whispered. "Walter is not hindered by societal restrictions, for he is beloved by the night, and lives by his own moral code. If he wants something, he will take it if it is in his power to do so. I easily succumbed to the curse and his charms. Everything about him allured me – his power, beauty, strength, and words were like nothing I had seen before. Human society rejected me, but Walter granted me eternity by his side."

"I…did not know…" Sara replied, and fell into a brief silence, which seemed to last forever.

He could tell she was collecting herself; preparing to accept what his words seemed to convey unto her judgment. Joachim glanced over his shoulder, reluctantly catching a view of her stricken expression. Without waiting for him to elaborate, Sara withdrew an apprehensive breath, her voice trembling somewhat when she spoke. "If you indeed had…_relations_ with Walter…you are merely a victim of circumstance-"

"I was a willing participant." He hissed, wringing his hands as a terrible surge of humiliation seeped within his soul. With a bitter laugh, he turned to face her at last, his lips curling whilst his thoughts lingered upon his wounded pride. Walter had taken everything from him; even his dignity meant nothing to the demon. "I betrayed the woman I loved for him, and yet I enjoyed every moment of it. Do you not find me repulsive; worthy of scorn and condemnation for lying with another man?"

Sara shook her head. The woman's eyes glinted, and her voice lowered when she reached out to take his hand. Before he could pull away, the warmth of her soft skin made him powerless to resist. Determination appeared within her gaze. "You think I shall judge you, even though it is not within my power to do so. I am certain that the woman you loved forgives you; even though you cannot forgive yourself. Hearing you condemn yourself makes me sorrowful, for I wish more than anything that I could comfort you." He saw her frame stiffen for a long moment, while her shaking lips revealed the tears building inside her eyes. Joachim brushed a hand across her cheek, before placing his finger beneath her chin to tilt her head upward. When their eyes met, Sara sobbed. "I shall give Walter no satisfaction from my imprisonment. No one else will suffer your fate; we must stop him…together."

"Please, don't cry." The image of her sad face made his throat constrict. Tears fell like raindrops from the lady's eyes. As carefully as he could, he wiped them away with his hand. "If Walter sees you cry-"

"I care not what he sees." Sara replied, "I am human, and my tears are for the innocents who suffered under his cruelty. For you."

Joachim fell silent. He could not find a worthy response to her kind words, since he never imagined that anyone would weep for him. Exhaustion shadowed the lady's face until she began to sway, and nearly collapsed onto to the ground. With the speed of a falcon, he caught her in his arms and noticed that her face was deathly white. All the life she possessed seemed to drain from her. "Sara!" He cried her name, his eyes widening upon realizing that, rather than hungering for her, he feared for her. He held her tenderly, for in that moment, compassion betrayed his instinct to kill.

Locks of dark brown hair splayed against her smooth cheeks, whilst her eyes slowly fluttered open and closed. After a long moment, she seemed to regain her strength, for one of her hands reached out to reassuringly stroke his cheek. "Joachim…forgive me, I have not slept in quite some time..." Her voice drifted away into a quiet sigh as he lifted her into his arms, and began to carry her back to his horse. Cojiro had begun grazing nearby, his long tail swishing whilst it roamed around the room. Upon hearing its master's urgent steps, the equine abruptly raised its head, pricked its ears forward, and emitted an anxious snort. His attention was so focused upon Sara, that he was unaware of the reason for his horse's reaction until he heard her fearful cry. "Joachim-"

Without warning, a massive plant burst from the soil and threw pieces of rock into the air. The sound of it emerging made Joachim jump back, and narrowly avoiding the rapid emergence of its skeletal form. The plant arched its long stem downward toward him, though it was no ordinary green stem filled with chlorophyll, but was made of bone like an adjoining spinal column. Instead of displaying a blooming flower, the end of the stem connected to muscle tissue formed in the shape of a half dome that opened and closed by the aid of five protruding bones. It was a bizarre creature even for him to look upon; connected to the lower muscle tissue of its cup-shaped bloom was a lower jaw, possessing human-like teeth and a red and blue colored tongue. At the very center was a large single eyeball, completed by an amber colored iris and slit black pupil.

"Don't be afraid," He soothed, and carried her toward the bizarre creature. "It will do you no harm, so long as I request its submission." He cooed to the plant, until its cup-shaped bloom gently brushed against his shoulder. Joachim returned the gesture by stroking the tissue protecting the creature's eye. Sara silently observed the massive plant, until he continued. "It is merely curious about our presence; nothing more. If it wanted to harm us, it would have tried by now."

"May I pet it?" Sara asked, and her eyes brightened slightly. It seemed to take all of her strength for her to outstretch her hand.

Joachim, unwilling to stress her further with an objection, consented to her request. "Do as you will."

"Even though this plant is unusual, I find it rather endearing." Sara smiled, whilst her delicate hand lightly tickled an area beneath the plant's flesh-like jaw. Upon feeling her touch, the plant began to tremble, until a faint, croaky chuckle reverberated from its throat. The lady gazed at the creature in wonderment, her smile broadening whilst Joachim looked on with renewed interest. He was somewhat shocked to find that Sara, in spite of her terrible circumstances, somehow found joy within Eternal Night.

He had been dwelling upon his own self-pity for so long, that the idea of actually enjoying the company of the castle's monsters never crossed his mind. The barest image of a grin creased the corners of his lips. "It seems to like you," he observed. "For a human, you effortlessly charm even the most terrifying monsters. That plant is extremely poisonous. If it wanted to, it could have killed you with its toxins in matter of moments." Joachim eyed the plant carefully, though seemed unconcerned about his warning. The plant continued to chuckle whilst she tickled its jaw and stoked its fleshy petals, her face beaming with the loveliness of a seraph.

* * *

After a time, they returned on horseback to the garden's atrium. Sara was still too weak to walk, and so the creature carried her toward the exit disc himself. "I know of a place where you can rest," he began. "Somewhere far more comfortable than here." Joachim turned to look at Cojiro. With a quick wave of his hand, he dismissed the animal. The horse huffed in response, whilst its silvery form began to fade into the ghostly image of its former self. With a whinnying cry, the beast turned and jumped through the door – the sound of its hoof beats echoing through the rooms beyond until only silence remained.

"Farewell, Cojiro." Sara whispered, before returning her gaze to him. "Where are you taking me?"

"Do you enjoy the theatre, Lady Trantoul?" He asked vaguely.

"Oh, I love the theatre! All the actors on stage give life to all sorts of beautiful arts – from tragic soliloquies, lighthearted comedy, to even dramatic battles between ancient gods. My father used to take me to the theatre on occasion; he thought educating me in the arts was essential to appreciating life itself. Do you mean to say, that a theatre exists within this very castle? I did not expect Walter would enjoy such things-"

"Walter loves being entertained," Joachim replied, his lips curling into a reproachful sneer. A dull crimson glow flickered within his once pale eyes. "Whether by actors or prisoners, is of little significance. The tragedy of separated lovers is his favorite, lamentably."

Sara gave no immediate response, though sadness was visible in her eyes. As he carried her onto the disc, she sighed, and her voice sounded oddly faint. "I hope…Leon is safe. He sent me a letter before his departure, telling me that he would speak to Mathias before our wedding, for Lord Cronqvist urgently summoned him. Leon and I were to wed in two days..."

Although he had no reason to, Joachim greatly pitied her. Fate – or God – had dealt Sara a cruel hand. Nevertheless, he could not resist thinking that at least she was alive, and under his sole protection. Leon would find Eternal Night, eventually, but until that time, he would enjoy her company. Feigning displeasure, he shook his head, his ivory hair cascading against his ashen cheeks. "Damn Walter. Baron Belmont will rescue you alive, as long as you remain here…with me…"

"You have done so much for me," Sara answered, and her voice softened when his piercing gaze drew her eyes to his. "I am truly grateful…and I am certain, Leon will be as well, when at last you meet him."

Joachim paused, admiring Sara's lovely face and gentle temperament. Everything about her expressed what he was not, and yet, he did not mind in the least. The loneliness inside him melted away with her smile. However, her last words made something inside him cringe, and he felt all the happiness in his heart abruptly dissipate. Leon Belmont would have his betrothed returned, and the thought of their reunion brought him little comfort. He veiled his feelings beneath a semblance of acceptance, though his voice lacked the enthusiasm it once held. "Of course, Sara…" he whispered softly. The lady gave a contented sigh; her delicate lashes fluttered closed as she drifted into sleep in his arms. Joachim pressed her delicate form closer to his chest, whilst one of his claw-like hands lightly caressed her cheek.

_I shall also be grateful, when at last I meet Leon...and kill him._

* * *

Joachim carried her into the theatre's silent entranceway, his lithe form swiftly descending the grand staircase until he carefully laid the young woman upon one of the theatre's luxurious sofas. Sara looked completely at peace – her sleeping form so serene that, for a while, he was content to watch over her. The theatre's candlelit atmosphere provided a relaxing and safe place for her to rest undisturbed. Faint sounds of operatic voices drifted through the theatre's lonely halls like a forgotten lullaby.

After a short time, Sara awoke, her blue eyes blinking to adjust to the theatre's dimly lit ambiance. Something seemed to be troubling her, for she sighed, sat up, and folded her hands on her lap. Loose coils of her chestnut hair tumbled around her shoulders. The long ivory skirt of her dress fanned around her like that of a porcelain doll. Upon seeing his pensive expression, she laid back down again, and her voice was weak from fatigue. For the first time, she seemed to reflect upon her situation with sadness unexpected of one possessing such irreproachable vivacity and hopefulness. Joachim sat down upon the edge of the sofa, his face a mask of tranquility despite the alarm building inside him as he looked upon her sorrowful countenance.

"Tis'…unfortunate that Mathias sought Walter for immortality," Sara began. "I visited Lord Cronqvist with Leon almost a year ago. There was something dark about his countenance; which I found very troubling. Leon insisted Mathias was simply exhausted – I believed him, for our meeting came shortly after the death of his wife, Elisabetha. Once, I entered his chamber to bring him flowers, and he looked so empty of life that it was as if his soul had already departed. He raised a trembling hand, beckoned me to his bedside, and thanked me. His voice was so weak I could hardly hear his words, but he kept asking me if I loved Leon, to which I replied that I did."

For a moment, she paused. Then, as if accepting her own admission, she forced herself to continue. "I saw his eyes widen a moment, before resuming their languid emptiness. He told me that he wished nothing but happiness for us on our wedding day, and pledged God's sacred blessing upon our future together. He said that he could feel Leon's love for me whenever Leon looked at me, for Leon was his comrade in arms, as well as his confidant. I spent some time with Mathias, trying to console him, but he did not seem to hear me. His thoughts seemed to linger upon matters he did not disclose. Seeing that man lying in bed, so lonely and miserable, created guilt within my heart, for his love for his wife was profound. I had never seen such devotion to another soul until I met Mathias; a part of him was truly gone forever. After our departure, I never told Leon what Mathias said, but in a moment of weakness, I wept in Leon's arms. Leon assured me we would visit Mathias after our wedding, and invite him to live with us. Leon always believed in Mathias. Their friendship stood the test of war and death, yet I know, Leon's happiness about our union divided them. Mathias must wonder why, despite God's benevolence, Elisabetha should be given to him, and then tragically depart to heaven. Alas, the workings of God are mysterious, though like him, I lament the brevity of life. Now, whenever my thoughts dwell upon Leon, I am overwhelmed by sorrow. Perhaps our union should not be, but should it also not be that one man in his grief, deny others happiness? I will grieve Mathias' decision, and pray that Leon's faith in God is not marred, should he discover his friend's betrayal…and possibly…my own passing."

Joachim could not think of a worthy response to her story. He simply sat there, unable to speak, looking at her despondent expression as she sighed, before adding under her breath. "I feel responsible for placing Leon in danger. Although I told Lord Cronqvist my love for Leon, sometimes I wish I had spoken the contrary. Perhaps, none of this would have happened: Mathias may not have lost his humanity, and Leon may not have been betrayed…"

"You could not have known these events would unfold," Joachim replied, "Nor may your answer have made any difference to Mathias. I believe, Lord Cronqvist would have betrayed Baron Belmont, for if Leon's love is genuine, he would have fought to save you despite your answer."

"Yes, that is true." Sara sighed. Fatigue began to overcome her, and eyes slowly closed, whilst she drifted away into a troubled slumber. "Yet…a part of me is still…uncertain about whether I am worthy of being saved, for I sometimes think Leon's love is greater than my own."

* * *

Sara's skin seemed oddly pale and her movements were languid. Time meant nothing to him, however, its inevitable passing threatened to devour her frail strength. Though she did not request anything from him, he wished to sustain her as long as possible. It confused him to wonder why he wanted to help the woman, even though Walter already sealed her fate. Without a word, the creature slipped away from his guest and descended into the darkness beyond the castle's threshold. Strange dark clouds veiled the starry sky of Eternal Night for the first time in his memory. Joachim paused to observe the unfolding storm, his slender frame shivering in unease, instinctively attuned to the unusual restlessness of the night.

Whilst walking along the castle's worn pathway, Joachim pondered how he might aide his captive. He could not leave her long lest Walter notice his absence and prey upon her out of boredom. Yet, to his disdain, he had destroyed most of the nearby villages that he might have considered visiting. With a frustrated hiss, his pale eyes fell upon a cloud of smoke drifting into the starless night sky. The sight of smoke – created by someone _living_ in eternal night – drew him deeper into the forest. With cat-like steps, he hurried down the road, feeling his chest complain from the sudden exertion of running. Within a few minutes, he reached a familiar but modest log cottage. Through the cottage's exterior window, Joachim could see the dim glow of lamplight and the shadowy form of its inhabitant. He walked toward the cabin door – forgetting in his haste the barrier protecting it. In a matter of seconds, a splitting pain filled his entire body and sent him careening onto the ground. Needles of pain ripped through him like fire as he thrashed about the ground, screaming and twisting in agony.

Amidst his pain, he saw the cottage's owner fling the door open and emerge onto the porch, whip in hand, and eyes blazing with renewed fury. "So, you're back again!" The old man huffed, securing the whip in his tightly clenched fist. "You won't be able to get past my barrier. I created it to ensure that vampires like you could not prey on me in my sleep. It seems it is more effective than I thought-"

"I am here for the girl!" Joachim snapped, resisting the pain long enough to sit upright on the ground and look the human in the eye. Though older, the man's eyes were as sharp as a hawk's and his arms and legs were muscular from long hours in the sun. The two neat braids of ivory white hair resting on each of his broad shoulders swayed gently with his every motion.

Joachim felt the old man give him the most scathing look he had ever seen, and his voice was unyieldingly spiteful. "What game is your master playing now? There is no woman here, and even if there was, I would have no intention of relinquishing her to you, _vampire_. We are done talking-"

"No we are not!" With equal fury, Joachim sprung to his feet and summoned his swords. The blades encircled around him; protecting him from the human's weapon. No barrier would stop him from getting what he came for. With as much civility as he could muster, Joachim pointed his index finger at the old man, whilst his eyes gleamed like knives. If he lost control over himself for even a moment, there was no telling what he would do. A slow, deliberate smirk creased the corners of his lips when he spoke. "I don't care who you are or why you plague Eternal Night with your filthy presence, _human_. A woman in Eternal Night is under my…supervision…"

"In other words, Walter kidnapped her against her will?" The old man's voice darkened. Rindaldo's hands trembled in rage. Whether it was due to the woman's circumstances, or the creature's callous account of her imprisonment, was impossible to discern clearly. "I should have expected this. Well, you can tell your master one thing, when this whip is complete, I promise I will-"

"The lady is alive and well." Joachim huffed – eyeing the whip carefully before continuing. "Though she may not be before much longer. I thought you might remedy an insignificant little problem."

Rinaldo seemed almost ready to burst into laughter. A glint of offence appeared in the man's eyes when he chided silkily. "If the problem is so insignificant, surely you don't need my assistance? Why should I help _you_? I will never help your kind after what Walter did."

Joachim's smirk broadened. "Help _me_?" He sneered. "It is not I who needs help, old man! If you refuse, you will condemn the girl to death. What a pity that would be, no?"

Rinaldo hesitated. Uncertainty appeared in his steely gray eyes, though his expression was cold. "I don't have time for your lies, vampire!" He snapped. "Last time we met, I agreed to let you leave in peace. I have heard about a creature murdering innocents and leaving nothing but bloodshed and death in its wake. All of those lives, stolen…and I regret showing you mercy. Yet again, you and Walter will destroy another innocent life for the sake of entertainment. However, I will not let you escape this time, not without killing you first-"

"If I die, the lady dies." Joachim's voice lowered to a whisper. He sensed the old man's growing impatience but decided to test it a second time. The creature's eyes glowed a faint shade of red. Somehow, his slender form seemed more dangerous under the dim glow of the cabin's lamplight, which gently illuminated his pallid countenance. Before the man could interrupt, he continued. "Unless you intervene…"

"Intervene?" The old man folded his arms across his chest, securing the whip in the crook of his shoulder. "Why would you want to help a human? I imagine, to keep her alive long enough to torture her before allowing your master the final pleasure of draining her dry. You will receive no help from me, vampire, despite my empathy for that poor girl."

"I came here of my own accord," Joachim replied, unfazed by the human's skepticism. The old man was more clever than he thought. Had Rinaldo simply given him what he sought with little difficulty, he might have considered the old man a fool. Nevertheless, he added impatiently. "The girl is weak from hunger. I have nowhere else to turn except to you, regrettably."

Rinaldo huffed; his steely eyes glaring at the creature with escalating uncertainty. "So, after destroying the nearby villages, you dare ask for a human's help?" A low chuckle escaped his lips and he shook his head, as if the idea itself was so ludicrous it was impossible. However, in contrast with his amusement, his scowl deepened.

For a second, Joachim suspected that the old man was toying with him – pretending to listen while waiting for an opportune moment to attack. Even though Rinaldo did not leave the cottage's veranda, he could feel dread flowing through every fiber of his arms and legs. Deep seeded hatred lurked in the old man's lucid eyes like an unwanted contract. His voice was venomous, though the underlying truth in his words almost made Joachim flinch. "I am not asking," he hissed. "You will help me. If you refuse, I will kill you. It's quite simple, really."

"No, it is not simple!" With the fury of a lion, Rinaldo's eyes shot daggers at the pale creature. "Go ahead and try to kill me! You will not get past my barrier; it was created with a powerful form of alchemy. I will never help a vampire, but I will gladly destroy one. You are undeserving of any kind of help except to die."

Joachim wrenched his hands and gnashed his teeth. Something inside him threatened to break once he heard the old man's cold refusal. Intensity sparked within his pale eyes, though his voice seemed to tremble with fear and desperation when he spoke. Nearly devoid of control, he silently cursed himself for being what he was. Rinaldo's words injured him, yet, he persisted with a passion he had never fully expressed until that moment. Without thinking, he forced himself to leave the shadows and stepped forward, allowing the lamplight to unveil his deathly white skin, luminous eyes, and bloodstained robes. A thousands crimes haunted him as he stood, vulnerable to the old man's scrutiny, whilst he lamented. "If you refuse, I will find a way to evade your barrier and take what I need by force, even though I don't want to stain my hands and conscience with your blood. Do you know what it is like to be hated and feared by all? To be kicked, spurned, beaten, and attacked, simply for being what you are – even though it was not by your will? Yes, I am a wretch and a fiend; I deserve nothing for my crimes. I have murdered the innocent and the helpless. But hear me old man, the girl does not deserve death! It is she who pitied the undeserving…and lifted her hand, not to strike, but to comfort. A knight will enter this forest in search of her, and if you consent, she might live to escape with him." For a long moment, he paused, unable to speak. It took all his strength to force the admission from his throat. "She _must_ live; I will ensure that she does at any cost. Perhaps, you might try to stop me from taking what I came for – and if that is your intention – I will fight you for her sake, not my own."

A mutual silence fell. The human did not relinquish his guard, but his expression seemed to soften somewhat, and a sentiment of understanding flickered in his gaze. As if recalling a distant memory, Rinaldo released a deep sigh and shook his head, revealing at last a grief-stricken countenance behind a mask of self-assurance. Although neither spoke of it, they were much the same – living a life of seclusion in the forest, lost in the dark, and forever bound by a desire for absolution. Despite the old man's resilience, tiredness seemed to overwhelm him, and his voice calmed. "Regardless of my dislike for you…I can't allow an innocent to suffer. Surprisingly, you and I have a common adversary. However, that is the only thing we have in common, vampire." The old man hesitated, and forced himself to continue. "I'll see what I have and give what I can. Since food is no use to a vampire, I will assume that it is for the woman imprisoned in Eternal Night…so that she will be kept _alive_ and _unharmed_. Your resolve is remarkable, if it is sincere…" With a sharp glance, the old man turned toward the doorway. "Who is the girl?" He asked.

Joachim returned his curiosity with a scowl, however, could not resist allowing the smallest twinge of gratitude to appear on his face. At once, he dismissed his swords and commanded them to align behind his back – graciously easing the human's anxiety. With the flick of a hand, he growled under his breath. "A merchant's daughter; betrothed to a Baron."

Rinaldo gave the creature a suspicious glance over his shoulder. "Why am I not surprised…"

"I had no choice!" Joachim hissed defensively. Like an angry serpent, he bared his fangs in offence. "Walter commanded me to find her. He was much too _busy_ to do it himself, and the chore was passed unto me. The girl is scarcely eighteen, and ignorant of the world."

"All the women Walter kidnaps are in their youth," The white-haired human observed. "Your presence here endangers her. Should her rescuer be successful, you will release her?"

Joachim looked away. Suddenly, darkness enclosed around him as he slunk back into the shadows. Only the dim glow red in his eyes was visible when he replied. "A pathetic human is of no use to me."

Rinaldo shot him a scathing look, and his voice darkened. "Your intense feelings toward that girl should not be. Despite calling her a pathetic human, your _dedication _to her is concerning…"

"Would you rather I killed her then?" The creature sneered, giving the old man a wicked grin.

"I would rather you watch over her only, vampire." For a moment, Rinaldo looked as if he wished to say more, but nothing came of it. His lips curled while his hand tightened around the whip once more. Then, with a troubled sigh, he disappeared within the cottage.

What seemed like hours passed before Rinaldo emerged onto the veranda once again – holding a large basket instead of a whip. A white cloth covered the contents of the basket. Noticeably, he strung a rosary around the handle of the basket. The rosary's dangling cross hung like a pendulum. With cautious steps, the old man left the safety of the veranda and approached the pale demon waiting in the shadows of the lamplight. "Do not even think about moving," He warned. "The barrier still shields me. If I detect even the slightest twitch from you – no matter how small – you will get nothing. Is that clear?"

Joachim did not even move to reply. He stared at the human in a sullen silence, reluctantly complying with the old man's demand. With wolf-like vigilance, he watched Rinaldo take several steps forward. Although the barrier was invisible, the old man seemed to know its limit and grew more cautious. The human's stormy eyes surveyed him until he was assured by his stillness that the creature fully agreed to their bargain.

Once Rinaldo came within a few feet of the vampire, he set the basket down on the ground and stepped back. "This is all I have, and I trust that you will pass it on to the girl. God be merciful should her life be taken by you or Walter. I swear, though…if you turn her…I _will_ hunt you down and kill you myself. The whip I am holding will be the last thing your wretched eyes will see on this earth!" Without speaking to him again, he returned to the cottage, closed the door, and secured it with a resounding click.

Joachim released a sigh and lowered his head. The barrier divided him from the human world because of his accursed state. A profound aspect of his soul almost broke as he stood there, alone in the darkness, and at the cold mercy of the night. Despair threatened to break his resolve but he remembered that more important matters required his attention. He picked up the basket by the handle – giving the rosary a disgusted look – before flicking back the cloth covering its contents. To his surprise, the old man had included far more than he expected. Inside were three loaves of coarse barley bread, two bottles of red wine, grapes, several cuts of smoke-dried fish, and a hunk of cheese. In addition to food, the old man tucked several glass bottles containing a clear cobalt blue liquid at the bottom of the basket. Joachim held up one of the eggplant-shaped bottles and examined it closely. Rinaldo was a skilled alchemist and familiar with all kinds of forbidden practices, including potion making. Had the Church found out about his activities, the old man would have been put to death in the blink of an eye. Nevertheless, it seemed a shame that certain people considered the secret arts heresy. If he had known alchemy as a human, he wondered if he might not have been bedridden from his chronic illness…

With a satisfied smirk, the vampire carried the basket back to Eternal Night.


	31. Chapter 31: Sara

**Author's Note: **After a long absence/vacation, I hope you can forgive the long wait between chapters! It takes quite a while to write this much and have it edited before it's posted. I promise there will be more chapters soon so don't put this story in the fanfic graveyard just yet! I hope this chapter was worth waiting for. I've never seen or read a Joachim/Sara fic before and I thought it would be something new for the CV section - while explaining events that were not explained in LoI before Leon's arrival. I know you guys are eager to see me get to Leon and I will within a chapter or two, so stay tuned...

Also, Sara's back story about meeting Leon is partially based off of the one-shot fanfic "Name Calling" (by wordgawk) so if you are interested in reading it in greater detail, you can find it using the search engine on this site. I really liked wordgawk's take on Sara and Leon's meeting (since no one has really written about how Leon and Sara met) and I wanted to pay a little tribute to "Name Calling" in my fic. :D

Special Thanks:

Thank you **LateNiteSlacker** for taking time out of your extremely busy schedule to read this chapter and edit it! I would much rather wait and post it without spelling and grammatical errors, which (as a reader) would interrupt the flow of the story. I greatly appreciate your efforts to improve it, as always. :)

**RaharMoonfire**: I haven't heard from you in a while, but I hope your classes are going okay and that you keep writing! You were the first person to review this story and I miss reading your work.

**danceofgold:** I'm glad to see that you are still reading this long fic! I received the edited version of this chapter the same day as your most recent reviews so you won't have to wait as long as thought might have thought. :D Your reviews encourage me to not give up working on this story and they are always greatly appreciated.

**AzariyaBelmont:** As always, thanks for the reviews! Walter is now back in the story and is as scary and sexy as ever :P

**Chapter XXXI**

Upon his return, Joachim set the basket beside the sofa on the floor and waited for Sara to awaken. The lady slept soundly during his absence, and remained exactly where he had left her. Sara lay on her side; her eyes were closed and the long ivory skirt of her dress hung like drapery over the edge of the sofa, ethereal even in rest. Her head lay upon one of the sofa's feathery pillows, whilst her chest rose and fell in a slow, even rhythm. The moment he reappeared with the basket, Sara's eyes slowly opened and gazed at him in wonderment. Once she was certain of his presence, her hand weakly reached out for him, and her faint voice broke the silence.

"Joachim, you are here…"

"Of course I am." A tiny smile creased his lips and he ushered to the woven basket on the floor. As gently as he could, he slipped his arm behind her back and aided her in sitting up. The lady's thick hair tumbled down her back and exposed the delicate curve of her neck. He eyed it warily, and was careful not to let himself draw too near. "You seem tired and hungry; I hope these provisions will suffice."

Sara returned his smile. "Thank you, Joachim. A nightmare awoke me, and I doubt I shall sleep soundly in Eternal Night."

He sat down next to her upon the sofa, leaving a small space between them, and rummaged through the basket. After a moment, he withdrew one of the strange eggplant-shaped bottles and held it up, allowing her to catch the blue liquid's sweet aroma. "I am uncertain how much of an effect it will have, but an old man gave it to me with the intention of helping you. Perhaps, this will improve your condition."

"I am truly grateful. Forgive me for asking, but I must know…why do you help me?" Sara leaned forward and touched his hand once again, the warmth of her skin contrasting his icy coldness. Though her words were soft, a twinge of unease was detectible in her voice. "If Walter discovered your kindness, surely, he would be angry and punish you terribly! The thought of harm befalling you on my account-"

"Let me deal with Walter." His pale eyes narrowed as he considered her warning, and subsequently ignored it. Without hesitating, he pressed his index finger upon her lips, his voice lowering as he replied. "If I am correct, his attention is focused upon preparing for Baron Belmont's arrival. Enough talk about such details; you must drink this and regain your strength. If it is not to your liking, the old man included some food as well, which should last until the Baron's arrival." He pressed the bottle to her lips and gently tilted it until she emptied it of its contents. Upon drawing it away, he looked at her closely, and noticed that a bit of color returned to her cheeks. When he was certain she showed some improvement, he searched through the contents in the basket and withdrew the remaining two potions Rinaldo had given him. Very carefully, he hooked the bottles to the waist belt beneath his robes, determined to keep the valuable concoctions with him in case she required another again later. Once the bottles were secure, his attention returned to her, and he asked gently. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel…somewhat refreshed, now." Sara's eyes brightened. Her face regained much of its former vivacity. The graceful curves of her cheeks seemed to tint a shade of crimson under her pale guardian's gaze. "A nice walk may help me recover my strength. This theatre is so beautiful; I would not mind seeing it, if you will escort me?"

"You should rest a bit longer," Joachim was unwilling to compromise until her condition improved. Despite her renewed enthusiasm, her pale skin emphasized her fragile appearance. Knowing she might object, he drew a tentative breath, and looked at her in concern. His fine lips drew a frown, whilst he leaned forward, the silver steel lining his armor glinting in the candlelight and contrasting against his robes' deep indigo hue. His ivory white skin, hair, and elaborate clothing, gave him an unsettlingly morbid appearance, like a mourner attending a funeral. "You said you awoke from a nightmare?" He asked.

Sara's smile abruptly faded, and she turned her head away. Her beautiful countenance seemed to be overwhelmed by grief, and her voice weakened once again. "Yes…I dreamed that Leon was turned into…into…"

"What I am?" He could tell by her despondent expression that his perceptiveness was more accurate than she expected. A grimace creased the corners of her lips, whilst her chest heaved a grief-laden sigh. Despite her reluctance to answer him, Joachim's lips curled as a faint, red flicker reflected within his icy eyes. "A vampire? An undead, unholy, wretched bloodsucking monster? That is what my kind are to humans, are they not?"

Almost pleadingly, she shook her head. Sorrow abruptly washed away her relief, like a shadow cast across the sun. "Leon was given a choice and accepted out of despair. I fear for not only his life, but his soul as well. My own life is of no consequence."

Joachim's eyes widened, and before he realized his own actions, he bolted from the sofa and whirled to face her. His slender form trembled, whilst he paced back and forth in front of her, his hands clenching into fists. The creature's fine lips parted to expose his gleaming incisors, and a red flicker appeared in his eyes. His voice, once calm, was twisted by fury. "Enough! As long as you remain with me, you are mine to watch over and protect! If the Baron is unable to save you, I-"

"Please, don't be angry!" Sara gasped. "Forgive me; I did not tell you about Leon and I in detail. If you are willing to listen, allow me to explain."

"Very well," With a huff, the young nobleman seated himself next to her on the sofa once again. The dim candlelight cast strange shadows across his ivory face, and gave him a somewhat unsettling appearance. Despite his regal attire, bestial fierceness lurked within his eyes. More than he realized, he did not want to hear her talk about Baron Belmont. However, his desire to comfort her overcame his aversion of the topic. He gave her an apologetic look and reluctantly obeyed her request. "I-I did not intend to frighten you. It has been some time since I engaged in human conversation; and my etiquette is sorely lacking. Please, tell me about Baron Belmont."

Sara returned his agreement with a congenial smile. Nevertheless, she seemed to sense a pain within him, for her eyes lingered upon him for a long time. However, despite her concern, she did not persist. Joachim felt his face pale when she released a quiet sigh, her voice softening as she began. "My father bought and sold land for the Belmonts, who were among the wealthiest and most respected families in Germany. When I turned seventeen, my father decided that I should be employed as a servant for the Belmonts...in secret, of course. It may seem unconventional, but my father was an honest man, who wished to instill humility within me. He told me stories of countless heiresses who spent their family's fortune frivolously; driving their once powerful line into destitution because of their pride and gluttony. For a time, I served the Belmont family, and was content with living modestly. Though a servant, the Belmont family treated me with kindness and dignity, and allowed me to care for their horses. I was happy there, but missed my own family terribly. My loneliness must have shown, for it seemed to make their only son – Baron Belmont – acquire an interest in me."

Joachim could hardly believe what he had just heard, or the image of Sara donned in the simple garb of a household servant. Everything about her depicted a fragile beauty that he feared would be lost. Sara had experienced and seen far more than her innocence revealed. The idea of her scrubbing floors, making beds, and brushing horses, made a slow, gentle smile cross his ashen lips. However, her remarkable account of life before Eternal Night reminded him that her life was very distant from his own. Joachim refused to allow such dark thoughts to overwhelm him and allowed her to continue.

Sara adjusted the folds of her long skirt, her eyes brightening whilst the sweetness of her voice filled his ears. "I thought I had developed my disguise as a servant perfectly in both speech and appearance. However, Leon eventually uncovered the fact that, in truth, I was a noblewoman. I feared he would be angry for guising as a servant, but he assured me that my rather…unconventional actions did not offend him and allowed me to continue serving his family. Leon's honor and gentility instilled great esteem within all who met him, including myself. I had never met a man of such virtue and benevolence until I spoke with Baron Belmont; his sense of humor and wit captivated me completely. Our meetings thereafter were infrequent, due to my supposed inferior position and his obligations to the crusades in the East. My father eventually summoned for my presence home. I was obligated to obey him and resigned my position."

"A fortnight after my return, Leon sent a letter requesting to visit our estate to sell a parcel of land to my father. Despite the brevity of our meetings, Leon was gracious and kind; he found great pleasure accompanying me on afternoon walks, and thought my love for horseback riding was endearing. He remained with my family for three months time, and sought out my company whenever he could. Shortly before his departure, he asked my father for my hand, because he believed that my modesty and goodwill won his heart. Leon's honorable status with the church inclined my father to accept his proposal. My mother was elated by the news of our engagement, and began wedding preparations almost immediately afterward. However, Leon was summoned to the East, and the date of our marriage was delayed until his return. He wrote to me often; his letters revealed his gracious affection and unbroken courage.

"Battle wearied him, but he said that returning to me gave him renewed hope at finding peace within himself. I believe he feared that, without love, a part of him would be lost to the violence and death of war. Months passed before I saw him again, though the circumstances were grave, for it was shortly after the death of Lord Cronqvist's wife. The church required Leon to return to the East without his trusted friend, and his letters seemed more serious and lonely than before. He often wrote about his growing concern for Lord Cronqvist's ailing health, and of his longing to see me as soon as he was able. I remember…he wrote in his letter of finding something unusual – a flower growing in the middle of the desert sands. He said it was difficult to believe something so fragile and beautiful existed amongst the barren, violent lands of the east. The flower comforted him somehow, and he enclosed it in the letter – it was dried, and pressed flat, but its beauty stirred my deepest affection."

Sara hesitated to smile. Tears threatened to build in her eyes, but her thoughts seemed to focus upon the vampire beside her, who had barely moved during her speech. When she fell silent, he sought to address the wavering he sensed within her when she explained her memories of Leon. Though her reflections unveiled the depth of her attachment to the Baron, her eyes lingered upon him for a long time. Joachim could feel her trying to see beyond the steely surface of his pale eyes, like an angel awaiting a prayer. Joachim was immobilized by the magnetism of her sanguine gaze, and when he responded, his question threatened to unveil his thoughts. "You do not love him?" He asked, catching himself when he realized the abrupt manner in which he had broached the subject.

Sara hesitated, her eyes blinking at him in surprise, until she reluctantly answered."I do not _know_ him…at least, I sometimes feel that is true. Our engagement has lasted over a year and we seldom see one another. I wonder why he fell in love me…and yet…"

"It seems like a story from a fairytale," The vampire mused. A faint smile returned to his lips and he looked away, knowing that 'class' was not an unfamiliar subject in his past. His pale eyes focused upon her once more as he continued softly. "I suppose, humility is a divine attribute, for so very few truly possess it. Many plays and books depict noble, tragic aristocrats…but I believe the most virtuous can also be those without wealth or status."

"Why do you think so?"

"During my darkest hours, my fellow aristocrats labeled me a worthless invalid, while a kind soul – with neither a title or penny to her name – selflessly cared for me. I owed her more than I could have ever have repaid in gold."

"Oh, Joachim…I did not know…"

"Are you feeling stronger?" He asked, purposely changing the subject. When Sara nodded, he continued. "Let us walk to the theatre, then. If you wish…take my arm, and I shall escort you."

They began walking in silence, and Joachim kept his swords at the ready. He was not so much concerned about the skeletons and ghostly knights floating about the rooms they passed through, for he knew the demon that lurked in the theatre was far more devious. His eyes narrowed at the fact when they passed floating ghosts clad in dark purple cloaks. Sara did not even look up or bat an eyelid in fear despite the huge bloodied cleavers clutched in their hands. Her lack of attention inclined him to remain vigilant in case the monsters and spirits had ill intentions toward his human companion. Initially, Sara grasped onto his arm as they wandered throughout the empty theatre, calmly listening to its faint, unseen voices singing from somewhere far away. As they strolled down one of the theatre's candlelit corridors, he felt her hand slip gently down his arm until her warm, delicate fingers intertwined with his. For a moment, his eyes widened, and his lips parted to speak but only silence escaped them. Sara's crystalline eyes appeared at peace, and her lips lifted into a smile as her head lowered. Tendrils of her dark russet colored hair partly veiled her fair visage. The closeness between them resembled Apollo and Cyrene – for his immortal, dignified grace simultaneously opposed and complimented her mild, human loveliness.

They entered a wide, rectangular shaped room covered by a dark red carpet. Tall windows lined the furthest wall and allowed streams of pale moonlight to filter across the floor. The theatre's elegance fascinated Sara, for her child-like wonderment of the theatre emphasized her innocent view of the night. Eternal Night, in all its terrifying glory, enchanted the young woman completely. Her love of the castle inspired him to appreciate its refined elegance, vast arched ceilings, and elaborate architecture. He allowed her to distance herself from him so that she could explore the space, her bright spheres alighting with interest until a mask of dread veiled her excitement. The woman's face paled upon sighting a large, black beast padding toward them.

"Joachim, what is that?" Sara's eyes widened when guttural growls vibrated from its throat.

Immediately, the pale youth drew her back by his side, whilst he observed the source of her fear.

"It's _nothing_." Joachim summoned his swords. The five blades broke their alignment behind his back and began to encircle them both. The young man's pale eyes narrowed whilst his lower lip curled into a sneer. He had been waiting for a fight, though as always, the monsters in Walter's castle were of little influence. "Pathetic beast," he chided. "I will cut it to pieces! Just watch, Sara. You have nothing to fear."

"Must you harm it?" Sara grasped his arm in an attempt to pull him away. "Do not cause needless suffering, Joachim. Please, leave it alone, we can explore elsewhere-"

"No." The vampire held up a hand, his eyes alighting with a strange, fiery delight as he swept in front of her, blocking her when she attempted to step outside the barrier of his whirling swords. "This creature would rip you apart without hesitation. Why spare its wretched life when its sole purpose is to kill…not unlike my own?"

"I do not think killing is your only purpose," Sara persuaded. "It is dishonorable to take the life of something weaker than you are. Even monsters can feel pain…and killing them for sport will merely pull you deeper into this accursed life. Please, do this animal no harm, for did I not spare your life?"

"Please?" The youth chuckled, giving her a condescending look whilst the beasts drew nearer. "I will do whatever I like. How many men have died because of this creature? I am certain if you knew, you would think otherwise. You are naïve and inexperienced-"

"And you are a better man than this, Lord Armster."

"Sara, this is not a dog-"

"Who are you to judge what should live and what should die?" She folded her arms across her chest and turned away. Locks of thick, dark brown hair veiled her face and prevented him from seeing her expression. "Do as you will," she whispered. "But I shall not look upon such cruelty."

Though he knew not why, something inside him broke at the thought that he would repulse such innocence. With a trembling hand, he brushed aside strands of his silky white hair and swept forward, determined to believe that her pleas were due to ignorance. A woman like her had no concept of what it was like to live among the creatures of the night. With a frustrated sigh, he summoned his central sword to float above him, his eyes tinting a shade of red in challenge. The massive blade pointed forward, ready to strike whatever his thoughts commanded.

The creature resembled a large dog with a heavy spiked collar secured around its neck. It was lean and agile, with sharp pointed ears and ferocious canine teeth. Gold swirling patterns were faintly visible in its glossy jet-black fur. Though he did not wish to remember, words echoed through his mind whilst he reasoned against the insatiable desire to kill. If he so much as wished it, he could abandon Sara to the merciless, raging beast and watch her die. Yet, his throat constricted at the thought of any harm befalling her. The woman's disappointment stung his heart like a thousand bees. Would she truly believe he was cruel if he did not spare the creature's wretched life? The soft glint in Sara's eyes made him wince. All at once, her dark brown hair transformed into thick, black ringlets…

_Do not harm humans. Protect them, for they are weaker than you are..._

When the creature lunged forward to attack, he seized it by its collar. The fiend barked and snapped at him with its powerful jaws, exposing rows of gleaming white incisors. However, instead of finishing it with his swords, his mind pinned it against the floor. _It seems, I have been convinced…not to slay you, after all. _The creature struggled to free itself, the sharp nails on its paws shredding the carpet whilst it snarled threateningly, willing to lunge at him if his hold so much as slipped for a moment. Saliva dripped from the canine's gaping mouth as it howled and snarled for freedom. The beast's hind legs and forepaws were lean, powerful, and capable of bringing down a creature twice its size.

"Joachim?" Sara called out, and during her approach, the long flowing skirt of her dress swept behind her. "I thought you wanted to kill this poor beast? Do not torture it-"

"I have no intention of torturing it." His eyes lingered upon the clawing and snapping creature subdued under his grip. The canine was much larger than he expected. "Get back!" He ordered, flitting a glance in Sara's direction when the hound nearly freed itself. The creature lunged at his face, aiming for his throat, and narrowly missing it when he jerked his head back. "If you happen to have some treats on hand, that would be helpful, or perhaps I shall use the pearls adorning your hair to play a game of fetch?" He gave her a sarcastic, though somewhat playful, smile.

Sara returned his smile with her own, her eyes brightening as he fought to restrain the howling and snapping creature.

"Poor thing. That collar on his neck is far too tight, tis' no wonder he is unhappy." She stepped forward, extending her hand, before the pale youth anxiously waved her away.

"Don't approach!" Joachim snapped, shooting a sharp glare upon her. "I am certain you would not be so empathetic if it bit off your hand."

Despite the coldness in his voice, her concern was legitimate. Streams of thick red blood trickled down the creature's neck and chest. With a reluctant sigh, he increased the force of his thoughts upon the beast until it was restrained enough for him to release his hold. The creature remained pinned against the floor, its dark eyes glowing a shade of crimson as it clawed and snapped at the pale young man standing before it. "It might be kinder to put it out of its misery-"

"Joachim!" Sara's voice became firm. Without hesitating, she swept closer, ignoring his startled gasp, and looked him directly in the eye. "You have proven you are capable of far greater deeds than this. I do not want you to be lost to the curse…please, do it no harm."

Joachim gazed at her for a long time, eyes fixated upon the woman's delicate face. Sara cupped her hands in front of her and pursed her lips, her bright blue spheres blinking at him in the room's dim candlelight. Somehow, her voice calmed him. After drawing a sharp breath, he returned his attention to the growling and snapping creature, his voice lowering when he at last conceded to her request. "As you wish…"

Forcing something to remain immobile against its will took great effort. His mind began to ache from the exertion and there was little time to deliberate. He carefully grasped the stunned beast by its collar while avoiding the encasement's steel spikes. Despite immobilizing the wolf, he never underestimated it. Strong muscles rippled beneath the hound's shoulders, neck, and legs. Subduing even one of its kind was a challenge in itself. Once he was certain that it could not attack, he examined its collar. The collar was crafted from of an unidentifiable thick metallic substance, which appeared impossible to remove. Deep gouges in the creature's forepaws indicated it had spent a great deal of time trying to wrench it off. "This creature attacked out of fear. Whatever placed that collar around its neck intended to cause it pain."

Sara gave the brute – as well as the vampire – a sympathetic look. "Not everything is as it seems. Perhaps, the monsters inside this castle suffer just as much as their master does."

"Suffer, Walter?" Joachim raised an eyebrow, barely restraining the urge to laugh. "I hardly think so. Rather, he must be sitting upon his throne as always, eager to play another game. Bored, perhaps, but I would hardly say he is_suffering_."

The young woman looked away, and all at once, sorrow overwhelmed her. "All I wished to say was that perhaps, the Ebony Stone is to Walter, like the collar to this dog – a terrible, painful burden…"

Joachim scoffed, casting her another glare. "How is power burdensome? If the Ebony Stone were mine, I would obtain great pleasure from torturing that arrogant bas-"

"What would that achieve? Except prove you are just as much a tyrant as he is."

Joachim cast a sullen glance before resuming his task, muttering under his breath. "You sound like someone I once knew." He looked away, refusing to surrender more, for he feared that he was becoming too attached to his human prisoner. She did not belong to the night, for even keeping her in his presence was precarious. He grimaced and refused to give in to the terrible, lingering thirst burning in his throat like fire. As long as he kept his distance from Sara, he would allow no harm to befall her. It was inevitable that the red-haired lord would come to claim her…and it frightened him to know he was uncertain whether he would be willing to relinquish Walter's prize so easily.

The moment she saw him wince, her voice softened, and she placed a hand upon his shoulder. Her very touch, which was slow and gentle, made him shrink away as memories threatened to break his solemn mask. "Despite your effort to hide it from the world, you were human once."

"Yes, I was." He whispered but found himself unable to look at her in the eyes. "It seems so long ago. I am human no more, Sara, and you best remember that. The thirst is inescapable. Even now, I must use all of my willpower to quell the temptation. The more time we spent together, the greater the risk that I might…do something…unthinkable…" He bit his lower lip, fighting back the painful memories when they threatened to resurface. The past would follow him like a shadow. He could not – and would not – forget the terrible things he had done. "Who I was is of no importance. Never forget what I am; it will cost you your life if you do."

"Don't believe such despairing thoughts." Sara whispered.

To his relief, the growling and snarling beast distracted them from further conversation. His mind was growing tired of restraining it and he had to act quickly. The vampire began to loosen the beast's collar with his powers. He focused upon the collar's metallic surface, feeling its smooth, hard texture, and commanding it to pull away from the creature's bleeding neck. After a few tense moments of concentration, the collar slowly widened until it no longer pressed into the wolf's flesh, but hung loosely round its neck. With an exasperated sigh, he released his hold upon the beast.

Within seconds of releasing it, the canine shifted form and melted into an oil-like pool on the ground. He watched the ink-like substance move across the floor, its black gooey texture contrasting against the theatre's ornate gold carpet. Joachim darted toward Sara, keeping close to her, whilst the pool slid away from them across the floor. "That was the best I could do," he began as Sara stared at the moving shape. "We should leave before it tries to attack-"

"I do not believe that is its intention." She replied. "If it wanted to attack us, it would have tried to after you released it."

"Let us hope you are right," The vampire muttered under his breath, giving her a discerning look before his attention reverted to the inky pool that had once resembled a wolf-like canine.

Although it was a short distance away, he maintained his guard. He was tempted to encircle Sara with his swords, but he relented long enough to give the woman the benefit of the doubt. His fine, white lips drew a sharp breath when the young woman advanced toward the pitch-black mass on the floor, which reflected the room's ambient candlelight upon its surface like water. Sara bowed her head and kneeled upon the floor, the ivory skirt of her dress flowing around her as she beckoned for the animal to approach. The softness of her voice seemed to ease the creature's fear of them, for upon hearing her speak, the puddle moved toward her and shifted form. The mysterious liquid constructed the figure of a lean, shorthaired wolf once again. Sara's eyes widened, her lips releasing a gasp of amazement upon watching a living, breathing animal shed its inorganic disguise. The wolf's luminous black eyes stared at them and its sleek form padded slowly forward.

Joachim's pale eyes blazed, whilst his lips parted and exposed the pearly whites of his fangs. Sara's compassion failed to quell his detest for the creature. He saw Sara look at him over her shoulder, her cerulean blue eyes widening with growing apprehension, not of the wolf, but of _him_. The realization made him hesitate, and his once confident disposition melted into shame. He abruptly broke their gaze, feeling his chest constrict as he considered the callousness of his judgment. Every moment she spent within Eternal Night, he feared for her as though her life, like a contract, belonged to him only. Though fear seeped within his pale eyes, his head lowered, and he retreated into his own thoughts. He did not move until the shadowy beast was so close that, if he wished, he could reach out and touch it. The animal's dark eyes focused upon him intently, before a soft, high pitch whine escaped its throat and it lowered itself onto the ground before him.

"It means us no harm." Sara kneeled beside the creature and allowed it to sniff her. When it showed no aggression, her hand gently stroked its head. The animal continued to whine until the vampire consented to scratch it behind the ear. Joyous laughter escaped Sara's lips at the sight, whilst her tender gaze lingered upon the vampire admiringly, her voice softening. "I think wishes to accompany us...perhaps you could give it a name, Joachim? You are its master now."

"If you insist; I did not associate a great deal with Walter's creatures, and you best refrain as well. Some of the monsters are mindlessly violent, and if you were to stray far from me, would kill you instantly. " Joachim was perplexed by the creature's curious attachment to him, but he did not object to Sara's wishes, for he would deny her nothing.

The creature's presence seemed to comfort her, and when she blessed him with her smile, he bowed his head in agreement. He drew the creature's attention with his voice and thoughts. _Guard Lady Trantoul with your life. If I am absent or unable to protect her, ensure that she is safe. Watch over her and let none who intends harm near her, my faithful pet. _When the creature's eyes met his, he turned and led her out of the room, whistling for their unusual companion to follow. "Come, Sabooro." The black shape obediently trotted after them until it melted into the floor. Its ability to assume both a liquid and solid form seemed to amuse Sara, who playfully chased it until it assumed its wolf-like construction and greeted her with low, dog-like barks.

When they resumed their walk, he felt less alone. Within the vast halls of the castle's grand theatre, he felt a sense of nostalgia, for theatre's aesthetic loftiness vaguely reminded him of Armster Manor. A smile returned to his face as he walked with her in contended silence, secretly adoring her ability to find splendour in all things like someone he knew long ago, whom his heart still lamented. Within his mind, he began to picture the sounds of their quiet laughter defying the theatre's sullen loneliness. In the candlelight, her illustrious blue eyes seemed to glow brighter than all the stars in heaven. The intensity of his gaze drew her to him once more, and upon feeling her awareness of him, he slunk into the shadows. It was not until Sara's hand enclosed around his that he realized she had the ability to draw him back into the light. The softness of her voice, her hand, and her words, soothed him like no other. A warm smile spread across Sara's lips when their eyes met, and her voice unveiled a profound sorrow, despite her professed contentment. "Joachim, even though you are a vampire, I do not think of you as such. What purpose is there in dwelling upon differences? You may not believe me, but I am glad you are with me. When we are together my soul feels at ease. I have never confided in anyone as completely as I have with you, and I am truly grateful."

"You are grateful?" He whispered, his eyes widening. The contrast between them was so apparent, and so very troubling, that he scarcely believed her words. The pale creature paused a moment to catch himself, his pale eyes lingering upon her for a long moment until he continued softly. "I just…want you to know…how much I respect you, Sara. And that I…" The idea of her adoring him - and wanting his companionship – was dangerously enticing. After drawing a breath, a slight smile played across his ashen lips, and he veiled his thoughts behind the curtains of his lush, shoulder-length white hair. The words he wished to speak were caged inside his throat.

As if carried off by the wind, his words drifted away. Sara's hand tightened around his, and her smile veiled her response while they became lost within the silence that followed.

* * *

Before long, they arrived within the room containing the theatre's deserted stage. As if ready for a play to begin, the stage's red velvet curtains were drawn and bright lights illuminated its wood-planked floorboards. Numerous candles adorning the chandeliers above the stage were alit and cast a warm glow throughout the room. Sara dashed across the entranceway's elaborate red Persian rug, her footsteps barely audible as she cupped her hands in front of her and looked up to admire its lavish balconies. "The stage in this theatre is fit for royalty!" She exclaimed, barely able to withhold her excitement as the vampire followed close behind, his ghostly white face gleaming in the candlelight. His eyes swept the room carefully, noting that its quiet ambience had remained undisturbed since their arrival. While she explored the open area in front of the stage, his thoughts dwelled upon the five swords aligned behind him - waiting for the demon to acknowledge their arrival.

The shape-shifting wolf followed at Sara's heels. When the lady came within a few feet of the balconies above, low growls sounded from its throat before it snatched the ivory skirt of her dress in its mouth and tugged against it. Sara spun around, her blue eyes widening in surprise. "What is the matter Sabooro?" She bent down to pet the beast, whilst its growls increased and the jet-black fur upon its back bristled.

Tension ran through his body as he approached the balconies. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the scantily clad figure of the succubus perched on the centermost balcony, her back leaning against a supporting column whilst one of her feet dangled lazily over the banister. "What are _you_ doing here?" Joachim hissed under his breath, his pale eyes glaring at the unwelcome seductress. Without awaiting the concubine's response, he darted closer to Sara, and allowed the swords to circle slowly around him and the young woman. As soon as he sighted her, Sara ceased petting the wolf and straightened, her dainty lips parting in surprise.

A coy smirk spread across the harlot's lips. As if animated by the fires of hell, her eyes flickered. "It's good of you to return and pay me a visit, Joachim! I see that you brought a female companion with you tonight, as well. Although she might add a bit of fun, I am more than enough for you. I was hardly finished when you succumbed to my pleasures during our last unforgettableget together…"

"I don't understand your meaning, demon, nor do I care for you to explain!" The white-haired youth lied, his eyes blazing furiously upon her seductive form. The sound of the Succubus' bold, haughty voice recalled vague memories within his mind that he could not decipher clearly. The only thing he remembered was the pain of her talons digging into his naked backside, the hotness of her breath, and the cold, sting of her velvety lips covering his own. The images caused violent shudders throughout his body, whilst his shoulders sank back, and he turned away from the reminder of his moral debauchery. The creature speaking to him was not a woman, but a devil that had preyed upon him like a vulture. Humiliation resonated across his face. Upon noticing Sara's concern for him, he whirled to face the harlot, and covered his shame behind a mask of exasperation. The vampire's smooth lips curled into a reproachful sneer. "The lady is Walter's guest, and I doubt very much he would be pleased if you caused her any physical…_discomfort_."

The demon's loud, presumptuous laugh rang across the room. Her long, thin fingers toyed with a lock of her sleek golden hair. Promises of sensual pleasure emanated from her perfectly sculpted figure, though danger lurked like a shadow within her eyes and threatened to undermine her fabricated beauty. "How could you forget?" She retorted. "Oh, Joachim, you are even more gorgeous when you scold me like that. If you think you have what it takes, I might just let you teach me a lesson-"

A wicked smile crossed her ruby lips as her bat-like wings outstretched around her. One of her elegant hands began to untie the trusses securing the front of her bodice, while she waved a finger and ran her tongue across her gleaming white enamels. "I'd apologize for ruining your heartwarming moment, if the idea of entertaining _you_ wasn't so deliciously tempting!" The demon did not move from her perch, nor give any indication of losing interest, despite the blatancy of his disrespect. Instead, she leaned over the balcony to catch a better view of Sara's face. "Were you going to bite this little nymph before or after you took her innocence? Either way could work, I suppose." The succubus gave a tiny wink as a swirl of red rose petals spiraled under the control of an unseen wind. "If you didn't come here to play, at least entertain me! I get so bored sitting around all the time like this. Walter will be displeased I did not wait for that ridiculous bell to ring again, but oh well…I'll make it up to him, later." She shrugged, and with a mischievous wink, seated herself in one of the balcony's luxurious chairs.

"Leave us!" He was unconvinced by her submission, since there was only one thing a Succubus desired. Unless he consented to her, her appetite was insatiable and dangerous. Many had fallen to her charms in the past, to the point that he could almost smell memories of human blood staining the stage's worn floorboards completely red. More tragedies than comedies were acted out in the theatre, and its ghostly songs alluded to its blood-stained history. Tension surged through his body, and he ignored the demon's deceivingly innocent façade. "Your presence irritates me, and I will not risk you forcing yourself upon either of us-"

"Joachim," Sara leaned close and whispered in his ear, glancing from him to the female demon sitting in the balcony high above. "If she is in actuality a Succubus, she will do me no harm…I think…"

"What do you mean?" He gave her an incredulous look, his pale eyes narrowing. "She would copulate with anything!"

"That may not be so," The young woman shook her head, the locks of her dark brown hair falling gracefully against her fair cheeks as she continued. "A priest warned me about these demons so that I would protect my chastity. According to legend, Succubus visits men during their sleep, while its male counterpart – Incubus – preys upon women. I do not know if it is exactly as I have said, but I daresay…this Succubus seems far more interested in you than I."

Joachim did not object outright; for fear their unwanted host would overhear their conversation. The Succubus had not taken her eyes off him since she appeared. He considered the possibility of attacking the wretched demon as a precaution, but he could not risk injuring himself or getting Sara caught in the crossfire of his attacks. Although he was aware of the concubine's insatiable desires, his stomach churned in disgust. After a moment, his lithe form ascended the steps of the stage. "Perhaps, you can be of use to me after all. I am in need of a volunteer…" He began, his dagger-like eyes focusing upon the intruder's deceptive features.

The demoness' luscious lips formed a smile and she abruptly rose from her seat, and made an exaggerated bow. "I will gladly be of service." Low bemused chuckles escaped her throat. Her leathery black wings lifted her up and she dove off the balcony, her demonic wings beating against the air until the soles of her feet skipped daintily across the stage. The creature's closeness prompted Joachim to back away, only to feel her arm slip behind his waist and pull him into her lethal embrace. He gasped when her other hand slipped across his pants.

The seductress' dexterous fingers began to pry at the fabric, and her lips covered his in a hungry kiss until he threw her against the wall. "Foolish harlot, that is not what I meant!" He snapped, feeling his cheeks grow hot as Sara looked upon the scene in a stunned silence. Without daring a glance at the young woman, he ensured a safe distance remained between him and the Succubus before continuing. "Stay where you are and do not move. If you do, I cannot guarantee you will remain in once piece afterward."

"Oh my, you like it rough, don't you?" The demon teased, while giving the vampire an obvious wink.

Joachim was not inclined to return her playful chitchat and turned away, hoping that she would not try to mount his backside. A tiny smirk creased the corners of his lips as he flicked back the tails of his indigo robes, his pale face taking on the color of snow under the glow of the candles illuminating the stage. The graceful lids of his eyes fluttered closed whilst he addressed her straightforwardly. "Spread your arms and legs."

"Well, at least you know what you want; I adore that about you. If you intend to take me in this position, the wall should provide excellent support-"

Sara's crystalline eyes widened, whilst her hands covered her mouth, and her voice resounded anxiously through the room. "Joachim, what you are doing?"

Alarm appeared upon her face, which drained of its former color. A wave of fear shadowed her as she stared up at him, verging on intervening, until the five blades accompanying him suddenly stilled behind his back. Without turning to look at the temptress, the vampire's swords rose up; their blades angling directly at the Succubus. A flash of metal reflected against the woman's eyes as the swords plunged toward the demoness and collided against the wall around her – missing her limbs by a nary a thread. If he had miscalculated in the slightest, his weapons would have succeeded in slicing the demon apart like a piece of fruit. Joachim slowly turned to admire the sight, his icy eyes gleaming with malicious enthusiasm upon noticing the Succubus' shocked expression. "You wondered what I am capable of as a vampire, Sara. I thought a bit of target practice would amuse you."

"How rude!" The demoness huffed, eyeing the white-haired youth with a mixture of hatred and arousal. With a loud laugh, she turned around and blew a kiss, before bending over to expose the graceful contours of her partially exposed breasts. Somehow, in spite of his contempt, admiration overcame her irritation. "If you want to amuse _me_, come here, and grant me a taste of your delicious lips…"

Sara made a hesitant smile, however, and uncertainty lingered upon her face as she looked on at the sight. "Please do not cause her harm, Joachim." The lady stepped forward and cupped her hands together in front of her, her crystalline blue eyes focusing upon the pale youth intently. "I did not imagine that your telekinetic abilities could be so intuitive! Many people would give anything to have that kind of power. Yet, I wish it would not be used for ill, since power can corrupt the mind and heart…I pray you do not succumb to your thirst."

Joachim sensed that her curiosity toward him was growing. He had never tried to find genuine enjoyment from his powers. Of course, there were moments – dark moments – when his powers were undeniably satisfying. Memories of dying screams and bloodshed filtered through his thoughts until he banished them like curses. Sara had witnessed the extent of his violence, and he understood her reluctance to find amusement from his capabilities. He summoned the swords and watched them dislodge from the wall and return to their alignment behind his back. His silvery white brow furrowed, and he shot the concubine a warning glare, hissing under his breath. "If you harm her, I won't miss next time."

The succubus shrugged, and tossed her golden hair over her shoulders. Feigning disappointment, the demoness' luscious lips formed a childish pout when she turned to face him. "Oh, and I was just beginning to think you were going to tie me up and try some _other_ tricks. Apparently, this is my cue to leave?"

"Get out of my sight!" He snapped, ignoring her playful banter that was an all too familiar trait of her devious and fickle nature. He waited until she sighed and flapped her wings, her voice carrying across the room like a siren's song.

"As you wish, but don't expect me to be gone for very long! I so enjoyed our little romp, and expect you will reconsider when you tire of her weak, human body." With a presumptuous laugh, a rush of wind swirled around her graceful figure until she vanished from sight. The only things that testified to her presence were red rose petals scattered across the stage in her wake.

Once he was certain she was gone, his attention returned to Sara, and his thoughts focused upon the stacks of chairs and sofas tossed against the wall near the entrance. His mind commanded one of the chairs to move. He lifted the object into the air, pulled it forward, and deposited it behind his unwary spectator. Joachim's pale eyes glinted as he swept a deep bow before her, the silken locks of his glossy white hair tumbling around his graceful features. Somehow, the remnants of his aristocratic past made him feel almost _human_. "Please, sit down and rest." He began graciously, and his pale eyes lifted to look at her smooth, fair face.

Sara was still weak from lack of sleep. He watched her spin around to look at the chair behind her in surprise, and her eyes subsequently widened. "Did you…move that chair without my noticing?" Without objecting to his offer, she seated herself upon it and adjusted the skirt of her dress. Her delicate lips formed an amused smile. The lady's canine companion devotedly sat down on the floor next to her chair, its dark eyes scanning the room for further sign of the seductress' presence. Joachim drew a breath whilst his eyes looked upon her, admiring the fact that her graceful, gentle nature resembled that of a saint. Her fair face seemed to glow in the candlelight, and her beauty seemed to rival that of an Elysium goddess. Yet, Sara's grace was not the suffocating image of perfection, but of a young woman whose perceived naivety veiled great wisdom. "It is hard to believe vampirism is capable of bestowing such limitless abilities. How did you acquire your powers?" She asked, whilst intrigue appeared within her bright azure eyes.

"That I know not. I awoke, and realized I could move things with my thoughts, like so…"

The swords circled around him and twirled sideways, their dim greenish light casting a mysterious shadow across his ashen face. He could command the weapons to do whatever he wished. Even though vampirism had cost him dearly, he did obtain some amount of freedom from his powers. His lithe form walked toward the stages' side wall and sent a sword careening into the stone. The weapon hit the rock with a resounding clash of metal, until half of its long, rusting metallic blade was impaled within the stone. He leapt onto the flat edge of the sword and balanced himself on top of it, adjusting his stance until it supported his weight. With a low chuckle, he sent another sword careening into the wall slightly above and in front of the sword he stood upon. As if it were routine, he jumped onto the second sword, and balanced the metal soles of his boots on the blade. If he slipped, the edge of the sword was capable of injuring him greatly, though his levitating ability helped to stabilize him. Sara's eyes followed his movements, and her lips parted in amazement as the creature sent another blade into the wall in front and above him, though further apart than the last. With the dexterity of a sparrow, he flew from one sword to the next, and commanded the lower ones to dislodge themselves and impale higher and higher up the wall like stepping-stones. Within minutes, his indigo-clad form was over halfway up the room.

The tails of his long robes floated around him as he gazed upon Sara below; silently admiring her from a distance. "I suppose, there is some amusement to be had from these blades," he called, while the sharpness in his voice transformed into delight. "The view of the stage from this angle is rather nice. Balconies were so last century, anyway…"

The sound of Sara's laughter filled his ears. As if observing a grand performance, she clapped approvingly, and graced him with a smile. "I am envious of your talent, but please be careful! Unfortunately, heights are not something I have taken a liking to since I can remember. When I was nine years old, I tried climbing a tree to view the countryside…but the branch I climbed upon broke, and I fell, tore my dress, and made my mother most unhappy!" She continued to laugh, and it seemed then, like all the troubles within her heart and mind melted away. He wondered what other interesting things Sara had done in her life that he, in his illness, had been unable to do as a child. When he was human, if he imagined that he would acquire forbidden powers that enabled him to control swords, he would have dismissed it as pure fantasy…

The soles of his boots slid across the sword to its hilt, whilst he observed the open area in front him and summoned the four other blades to lay sideways in midair and line themselves across the center of the room. There was nothing to catch him if he fell, but since death was of no concern to him, his eyes focused upon the nearest sword. He wished that he had many interesting tales to tell Sara about his life, but his memories of his human self were not as easily decipherable as they once were. "You sound like you were quite the adventurer as a child," he chuckled in spite of himself. "Someone I knew would have enjoyed those kinds of daring activities as well." The white-haired youth leapt onto the nearest blade suspended midair above the center of the room. His steps upon the swords were almost cat-like in grace and dexterity, as he leapt across one sword to the next, his boots barely touching the weapons' metallic blades until he landed upon the sword lodged into the wall on the opposite side.

"How will you get down from there?" Sara called and leaned forward in her chair, her eyes locked upon him in utter amazement.

He could have descended the same way as he ascended, but that was far too predictable for his liking. It had been a long time since he practiced transfiguration, and although it stretched the limits of his telekinetic powers, he could not resist the opportunity completely. The young man focused his thoughts and tried to remember what it was like to be a bat. The sheer weightlessness of his tiny body, a cool breeze brushing against fragile wings, and once hidden sights and sounds exposed – presenting a breathtaking view of a once ordinary, silent night. He could feel himself beginning to change while his thoughts delved into the mind of his bat-self. Slowly, his arms dissolved into wings, while glossy white fur replaced his pale skin, and everything around him became suddenly larger and more imposing.

He heard Sara's voice from below, and despite her distance, his improved hearing made it seem like she was closer. "Joachim, what is happening?" Alarm filled her when a relatively small, white vampire bat, replaced the vampire standing upon the sword. Sara gazed at the creature in wonderment, her lips parting whilst she breathed. "Joachim, is that you? I heard vampires could become bats, but never did I imagine you could change form on a whim!"

It was difficult for him to smile as a bat, but he drew his lips awkwardly back, and exposed the needle-sharp points of his fangs. "Don't worry, it is I." he assured, and the tips of his large, furry ears swiveled back and forth, whilst his leathery wings unfurled around him to reveal frail skin stretched across delicate, arm-like appendages. With little effort, he shifted across the blade, and allowed his small body to swing upside down from its hilt. Oddly enough, the sight of his tiny white form matched the sword's decorative bat hilt as his outstretched wings prepared for flight. "I did not mean to frighten you, Sara. Bat form is starting to come much more naturally to me than it used to." When she continued to look at him in confusion, he realized that - to her - his voice resembled tiny shrill squeaks. The woman's stunned expression amused him greatly. His small, clawed feet released from the hilt and he felt a rush of wind sweep against him as he dropped toward the ground. Sara gasped, nearly leaping out of her chair to catch him, until he rolled and flapped his wings to stay airborne. Like a white blur, he flew into the air and circled above her. Sara's head tilted back, her light blue spheres gazing up at him while laugher sounded from her throat.

After a short while, he flew toward her, and landed upon the arm of her chair. His dark, bat eyes looked up at the young woman, whose petite figure seemed enormous by comparison. His ability to maintain himself as a bat began to wane, and a headache threatened to diminish his enjoyment. Sara scooped him into her hands, and held him up to catch a closer look of his bat form. At first, he did not know how to react to being lifted and held. His human mind could not fathom the idea, despite feeling sheltered by her tender, warm hands. The lady's childlike inquisitiveness revealed that his protruding fangs, upturned nose, large ears, and furry face seemed more so endearing than frightening. He felt her delicate fingers comb through his silky white fur, and her voice – despite its natural softness – sounded thunderous to his sensitive ears. "You look adorable as a bat, Joachim! Bats are truly remarkable creatures; I do not believe all those cruel stories people tell about them. If I did not know better, I never would have imagined you were actually a vampire. How I wish I could see the world through your eyes, now."

"You are much too lovely to be a bat." As he expected, his voice sounded like the unintelligible, high-pitch squeaks of a bat instead of his own. He was somewhat grateful she could not understand him, for his discomfort with his bat body was beginning to show. He released high pitch squeaks, which attracted the attention of her canine companion. The black wolf raised its head and pricked its ears forward. Upon sighting the bat, it brushed its nose across his furry chest with a low growl, sniffing the strange creature until it recognized the youth's familiar scent. Joachim's nose wrinkled when the dog's wide nostrils let out a puff of air in his face before it lost interest. Sara uncapped her hands, and his ivory white form swiftly flew away from her and landed upon the rug near the entranceway.

Within seconds, he felt his wings shift into human arms, and stood upon the rug as his familiar, recognizable self once again. "I did not think you would find me adorable," he chuckled. "Most people despise bats."

"Most people despise that which they know little about," Sara's lips pressed into a gentle smile. "You have shown me that there is nothing to fear about them…or you."

He wanted to smile, but the sound of bold, loud applause broke the theatre's peaceful silence. Shudders of alarm reaped through his body when his eyes quickly looked up at the theatre's centermost balcony. Horror appeared across his once calm visage when his gaze fell upon the tall, menacing form of Walter standing in the balcony above. The vampire lord's eyes were locked upon him and Sara, and the moment he appeared, Sabooro lunged forward and released a series of loud barks and snarls. The creature's sleek black form stood between Sara and Walter while its opaque eyes stared intently at the intruder.

Coils of fiery red hair tumbled gracefully against the vampire lord's ashen cheeks and his lips formed a coy grin. An ominous glint reflected within Walter's starlit eyes, whilst his deep, resonating voice echoed through the room. "That was a delightful little performance, Joachim." The vampire's amusement failed to conceal his condescending tone, which verged on the barest thread of fury. Walter tossed his head, his dark eyes glinting enigmatically in the room's soft light. "How kind of you to entertain our guest..."

A lump developed within Joachim's throat when he felt Walter's gaze focusing upon him as if to burn him with their intensity. Despite his unease, he returned the red-haired lord's implication with a cold glare, whilst Sara stood nearby – frozen in fear and disbelief. "The pleasure was all mine, Walter." He replied, though his voice sounded fainter than he expected. "So good of you to join us. I was beginning to think you had forgotten about your guest."

"I had important preparations to make." Walter's voice lowered, whilst his dark eyes flitted briefly to Sara. One of his gauntlet-covered hands lazily brushed the bang curtaining his right eye aside. When the lady's eyes met his, Walter made a short bow, the beautiful tendrils of his hair tumbling around his face and shoulders in silky, blood-colored wavelets. His very presence mesmerized and terrified the young woman, who barely moved when his rich, eloquent voice addressed her in a tone of practiced cordiality. "You must be Lady Trantoul. I am the master of this castle – _Walter Bernhard_. I hope your stay has been enjoyable. It seems my servant has attended to you during my absence. How…thoughtful of him, indeed…"

Despite the clarity of her apprehension, Sara managed a reply. Her large, doe eyes gazed up at his tall, armored form, whilst the color drained from her face. Walter observed her with casual interest; the dark spheres of his eyes darted between her and the white-haired vampire as her voice, once soft, boldly resounded across the room. "So, at last we meet. Your magnificent castle possesses all the grandeur of a king's domain. Why do you desire my presence, Lord Bernhard?"

"Why, for the pleasure of your company, of course." Walter answered. Whether it was due to his imposing form or the coldness in his voice, his words made the young girl shudder. A deep frown creased the corners of Sara's lips the moment his rich voice filled the silence. The red-haired vampire's eyes glinted, whilst he assured silkily. "You need not concern yourself, milady. You are here because I wanted you to be. It seems, a gallant knight shall be joining us soon, whom I am certain you are very well acquainted with."

"Leon!" Sara cried, and her voice strained. Nearly bounding forward, she covered her mouth with her hands in horror. Pain washed across her beautiful face, whilst tears formed in her eyes, though she refused to let them fall in the vampire lord's presence. Terrible images attempted to distort her optimism, for her head lowered and her shoulders sank back. Her voice, once calm, trembled with fury. "I shall gladly remain your prisoner in exchange for his safety. I lament the innocence that has been lost to your cruelty, Lord Bernhard!"

Joachim remained at a distance, his pale face a mask of cold indifference. Locks of silky white hair swept against his cheeks as his hard, piercing blue eyes remained locked upon Walter in a sullen silence. The sound of her sorrowful voice made an ache fill him. A sigh parted from Walter's lips when he shook his head, his eyes abruptly narrowing upon the young woman like a cat toying with a mouse. The vampire lord's gauntlet-covered hand clenched into a fist. "Humans would call it cruelty," his voice lowered to a hiss. "Yet, your life is merely a blink in the eternal eye of time. You are a means to an end, Lady Trantoul, like so many other things. I am certain when Baron Belmont arrives, his efforts to save you will be greatly entertaining. At least, that is my expectation."

"What shall you do, should Leon survive to challenge you?" Sara's lips formed a scowl.

Walter swept his long cape around his armored form, his pale face, and crimson armor gleaming in the candle light. His elegant features and leisurely movements resembled a Roman emperor addressing a peasant. He leaned against the balcony and rested his chin in his hand, while his attention flitted from the young woman to the pale vampire – intensifying as he replied. "I am anticipating that the Baron will, and we shall see if that comes to pass. Forgive my intrusion, Lady Trantoul, but my dear servant has been distracted for far too long. I assure you, milady, your ordeal shall end eventually." The smile upon his lips broadened and he tossed his head, his lush crimson hair to cascading against his flawless cheeks.

"Is this how you treat all your guests, Lord Bernhard?" Sara asked. For the first time, Joachim saw Sara cast a scathing glare upon the vampire lord. "Has eternity lost so much of its splendor, that you must obtain pleasure through the destruction of others? Tis' an existence I am not envious of. I cannot look upon you, for fear that the devil himself is looking back-"

"Silence!" Joachim snapped, his pale eyes shooting daggers upon the young woman as he swept in front of her and towered over her delicate figure as if prepared to snap her in half on a whim. He held up a hand and avoiding looking at her when he hissed. "Forgive her ignorance, Walter. It seems this wretched girl does not know her place. Should you see her again, I will ensure that she does."

Anger swept across the red-haired lord's face for a brief moment, as his attention focused upon Sara once again, before lifting to the white-haired vampire. For a moment, Joachim wondered if the vampire lord would chastise Sara for her boldness, and tension swept across his face when he looked up at Walter's displeased expression. The demon's lips curled and his dark eyes glinted with suppressed anger. However, to his surprise, Walter did not bother to address her again. As if the young woman was insignificant, he gave Joachim a rigid nod, his voice acquiring a sudden harshness despite his composed facade. "Secure our guest. I require your presence, Joachim."

"If you insist," The youth replied, before giving the vampire lord a reluctant bow. He detested submitting to Walter but refused to risk angering him further. Locks of ashen hair swept around Joachim's fine features and his pale eyes clashed against his lord's obscure, dark spheres, which did not lift from him for a moment. Even though he did not wish to leave Sara, his master's penetrating gaze and unusually irritable demeanor troubled him greatly. There was no telling what Walter was capable of if he was bored, hungry, and aggravated. He whirled to face Sara once again and knocked her back with the force of his mind. The young woman fell back onto the floor with a cry, and her wide, blue eyes fled from him to the floor. Curtains of thick brown hair splayed against her shoulders and back, whilst she struggled to rise again, her pain and fear lost to the sound of her canine companion's snarling and barking. The dog threw itself in front of her, its dark eyes gleaming at the pale youth, prepared to tear him to pieces if he dared approach.

"Very well," Walter said at last, his great frame moved away before he turned and looked over his shoulder at the fallen woman. His cold, dark eyes narrowed, whilst his rich voice whispered. "Do not keep me waiting…" Without another word, his armored form vanished in a flash of white light.

* * *

During their departing from the theatre, Sara did not speak a word to him. The lady's eyes remained downcast and she followed at a distance behind him. Upon returning to the teleport room, Joachim whirled to face her and lowered his head. Anguish washed across his face when their eyes met. "Forgive me, Sara." He whispered, his face paling when she gave no response. With a frustrated sigh, he swept toward her, his pale eyes pleading for her understanding. "I had no choice. If I refrained, Walter would have killed you instantly. I did not want you to give him a reason!" He wanted to reach out and touch her, but feared she would pull away from him. Sara's eyes brimmed with tears that, despite her fear and exhaustion, she refused to shed.

After a moment of silence passed, she wrung her delicate hands and returned her gaze to the floor once again. Her voice, once soft and joyful, was barely audible. "I understand, Joachim. It is you who should forgive me; I placed you in needless risk. Now, I fear what Walter will do to you…all of this is my fault…"

"No, it is not." He insisted, casting her a sullen look, which contrasted the gentleness in his eyes. Frail beauty existed within his broken soul. When he looked at Sara, a strange longing filled him, which he could not define clearly. "You should fear for Baron Belmont. Leon is your betrothed…and far worthier of your concern than I."

"That is untrue," She shook her head. The lady's downcast expression deepened, and her voice sounded oddly faint and trembled when she spoke. The flowing skirt of her long, ivory dress swept around her as she stepped toward him, ignoring the black dog-like creature's protective growls when Joachim drew nearer in concern. "We must find a way to stop Walter before Leon arrives. I would do anything for your sake, Joachim. My time with you…is limited. There must be a way…"

"There may be a way," He replied, feeling tightness in his throat when her eyes gazed at him once again. The youth's steely blue gaze drifted beyond her to a mysterious, lone door on the opposite side of the platform on which they stood. The slight rumbling within the walls attracted his attention, though he knew not if it came from beyond the door, nor its source. Walter would require his presence shortly and there was no time for him to delay, lest the vampire lord decide to seek him out. Joachim dashed toward the door and forced it open with his mind. Before he could warn Sara not to accompany him, she stepped across its threshold and into the room beyond where the source of his – and her own – interest lay. "I am curious to know what Walter keeps in here." he whispered.

"Joachim!" Upon hearing her scream, he rushed though the door and came to an abrupt halt when the strong, musty stench of blood wafted through the stale air. Sara pressed her hands over her mouth and turned away from the sight. Her eyes widened with fear and alarm. "What on earth is contained here?" She gasped. Loud, rasping growls resounded through the wide, empty room in which they entered. She crossed herself and remained near the door, her gaze drawn to the middle, where a large pool of blood smeared the center of the room completely red. Candleholders on either side of the door barely provided enough light to make the interior of the room visible.

He clutched a hand to his chest, his mouth nearly falling agape as he peered through a metal grate lining the outer edge of the rectangular-shaped room. Although it was difficult to discern the appearance of the beast clearly, his eyes caught sight of its outline between the solid metal bars securing it below. Low, aggravated breaths sounded from the creature's throat, as if to remind the entire world of its suffering. "A demon…" Words fled his lips before he even realized he had spoken them. The stench of blood and decay warned him that, whatever lay within the iron bars, wastoo powerful to exist beyond them. The creature's low breathing made the walls of the room shudder. "This is not a creature a human soul should look upon…" He approached a mysterious, dark blue door on the left side of the room and gazed at its stone structure, which blocked access to the demon beyond. Tall, steel bars lined the wall around the door.

"What do you mean?" Sara asked. Despite his warning, and her own dread, she remained in the room with him.

"The seal on this door was once extremely powerful." His eyes remained locked upon the mysterious, dark blue door. "This room has been abandoned for quite some time, and whatever lay within these walls is supposed to remain there. I can feel its pain and rage eroding away the magic securing the door, and I don't know how much longer the seal will hold." He was not sure if Walter was responsible for containing the demon. The magic upon the door was old and revealed nothing about its origins. He could not imagine Walter containing a massive, raging beast as a 'pet' underneath the castle. Reasons that were far darker attested to the presence and unending suffering of the demon below. A tiny smile crossed his ashen lips while he looked on at the door and tried to decipher the secrets lying within the depths beyond its sealed frame. Before he turned away, he glanced at the tension wearing upon Sara's face, and added. "It seems unjust for this creature to exist within a prison of eternal torture…"

"Perhaps that torture is well deserved." Sara answered solemnly, her eyes drifting between him and the door. The dull, grinding sounds of the demon scraping against the walls prompted her to turn away. "I do not wish to remain here any longer, for whatever dwells in the chasm below frightens me. Please, Joachim, do not return to this place." She kneeled to pet her inky black companion that had fallen unexpectedly still. Her fair hand brushed across its sleek black fur in an attempt to ease its tension. Soft growls vibrated from the beast's throat until she straightened and departed from the room – the wolf following closely at her heels as she went.

The offensive stench of decay threatened to overwhelm his senses. Though he did not know what dwelled in the depths of the prison, the immensity of its power made him shudder. With a silent nod, he followed after her, but not without hesitating a final time. A twinge of empathy filtered through him as he listened to the demon's lonely growls. Despite its power, the demon was helpless to escape its fate. He chuckled to himself, while the smile upon his lips broadened, and his pale eyes glinted dangerously in the flickering light.

_A monster, forgotten by the world, would be remembered._

* * *

He knew of only one place he could take Sara where one would not find her easily. The tiny blue room in which he originally secured her within was far too obvious. Thus, Joachim led her within the dark, mysterious confines of the castle's laboratory. Sara followed quickly behind him, her eyes alert to every sight and sound within its walls. To save time, he sent the wolf ahead to destroy whatever obstructed their path. The black creature lunged upon blindly thrashing zombies and tore into their rotten flesh with its razor-sharp incisors, its heavy paws subduing the undead corpses with little effort. Its powerful jaws secured one of the zombies by the neck and shook it like a pheasant until the lady's voice attracted its attention. "Come, Sabooro." She called, pausing to turn and look at the beast. The wolf dropped the corpse and bounded after her through the laboratory's narrow hallways as a black puddle, which resembled the spilled ink of a quill pen.

After a time, they arrived within a large open room. "This is one of my favorite places in the castle," Joachim turned to the young woman and ushered her into the laboratory's observatory. "Monsters do not come here, so you will be safe during my absence. Do not leave this room until I return for you."

Sara walked toward the room's massive telescope, and her bright blue eyes gazed up at the object admiringly. Numerous books lined shelves on a platform above its modest hearth. The hole in the wall for the telescope's glass lens allowed them a glimpse of the night sky. The room's technological opulence provided an unusual contrast to its antique furnishings. She wandered from the telescope to the rough wooden table beside it, flipping through the numerous books, parchment, and vials scattered haphazardly across it. "Tis' a shame the telescope is out of reach. I would not mind looking at the stars; their beauty always captured my imagination. How I miss them…"

Her voice drifted into silence, and an unsettled air seemed to consume her until the white-haired vampire walked toward her and took her hand. Very gently, he led her to the wall and looked up at the gaping hole high above them. A smile creased the corners of his lips when he spoke, eager to alleviate her discontent. "Perhaps, I can be of assistance?" He answered, his pale face suddenly becoming alight with enthusiasm for the first time in his memory. It had been a long while since joy replaced his gloom. "I can show you the stars. Do not let go of me until I tell you to – the consequences would be rather…unpleasant."

Without waiting for her consent, the soles of his boots slowly lifted above the floor until he levitated in front of her. The tails of his robes fanned behind him whilst the silken strands of his ivory hair floated around his face. The familiar purple aura reappeared and illuminated the young nobleman, whose pale features, indigo clothing, and hovering form was both intimidating and strangely alluring. Sara's crystalline eyes widened, and she gasped when the feel of his icy cold hand slinked around her waist and drew her against him. His steely eyes intensified upon her, whilst his other hand cupped her face to feel her warm, smooth skin against his fingertips as he rose higher and higher above the ground – taking her with him – whilst both her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Tension appeared upon Sara's face when her feet no longer touched the floor.

Within seconds he reached the hole in the wall and set her down upon its broken ledge. The hole was in one of the castle's many spires, located just above the blanket of mist shrouding their view of the ground. A thousand twinkling stars greeted them in the dark sky, and the faint red light from the eternally full moon half-shadowed his face. He lifted his head to look at the moon, lost in the image of its magnificence, until he realized Sara continued to embrace him. Her arms relaxed, and she pressed her head against his chest, the locks of her soft brown hair splaying gracefully against her face and arms. He could hear the gentle rhythm of her heart beating within her chest, which briefly mystified him, for his own heart was silent and still. The skirt of her dress flowed around her feet like the robes of a seraph, and her light blue vest glowed in the moonlight. At first, he was too stunned to move. Painful memories threatened to shatter his peace but the hope within his heart defied them. The feel of her warmth vaguely reminded him of what it was like to be human. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, as curtains of white hair cascaded against his cheeks.

A weak smile played upon his lips when he spoke, and his voice softened. Affectionate sentiments reflected within his icy eyes, though the fragility of her existence only served to remind him that she did not belong to the night as he did. In the moonlight, his flesh gleamed with unnatural paleness. "My pale skin and hair should repulse you. I am dead but exist within an eternal purgatory. Even when I was human, people feared me."

Sorrow appeared within Sara's eyes when her face lifted away from his chest to look at him. "I am not frightened of you, nor do I find you repulsive. You were lonely as a human and fear you shall always be as a vampire. Yet, it needn't be that way, Joachim…" She withdrew a breath, and added softly. "I…am with you…"

As if fearing he would break her, he cupped her face in his hands. "You shall always remain in my thoughts, Sara. If there is one positive aspect of eternity, it is the fact that it shall enable me to preserve your memory forever. I would gladly relinquish all my powers, if only to be human again. Yet, you know as well as I, that I cannot return to my former life as a lord."

"Please, do not say such things-"

"I speak the truth!" He held up a hand, commanding her silence, whilst he continued. "My only request is that, upon your leave, you will never return here. My humanity is slowly fading away…and, in time, I will no longer know myself. I do not want you to see me when I…"

"Your humanity shall only fade if you allow it to. Fate is not the decider of all things, Joachim."

"Then what is?"

Sara hesitated for a long time. Her face lowered, and her eyes cast themselves upon the crimson moon. His penetrating stare failed to unnerve her in the slightest. However, her voice became faint. "…_Love_…"

A part of him wanted to scorn the simplicity of her answer. "Love?" He repeated the fatal word over and over under his breath, his face a mask of sorrow and contempt. The fine curves of his lips formed a scowl. The lady's unadulterated honesty fascinated and repelled him simultaneously. "I wish that were true," he sighed. "Love is not the decider – power is."

"Power dehumanizes people," She whispered. "You are above that, Joachim."

His voice lowered, and a twinge of reproach appeared upon his ashen visage. "I am inhuman. But you…are not."

A red flicker seeped within his pale eyes as he stared at her, feeling the terrible, perpetual hunger growing the longer he looked upon her ethereal beauty. It had been some time since he last fed, and he despised himself for being tempted so easily. An anguished cry sounded from his throat as he turned away and covered his face with his hands, digging the claw-like nails on his fingers into his own flesh. It was not until he heard Sara speak that his hands fell away from his face, and his body became completely still.

"I know because…your only concern…has been for me." She whispered, her crystalline eyes blurring with tears. Slowly, tiny droplets slid down her refined cheek and dripped off her chin. Wisps of dark brown hair slipped across her shoulders and back while her gaze remained locked upon him. "I know you grieve her, but all is not lost. When I think about the human world, my thoughts dwell upon the obligations I will face. Yes, I am betrothed to Leon, but that does not mean I am free. I cannot deny the fact that I sometimes doubt whether it should be…"

"Please, say no more." He shook his head, even though the wavering within him betrayed his words. After drawing a deep breath, her gaze seemed to possess the power to immobilize him completely. His movements felt rigid when he lifted a hand and caressed her face, running his fingers across her warm, smooth skin as he drew her closer until his cold, ashen lips brushed lightly across hers. Despite hungering for the taste of her lips, he pulled away, and his voice trembled. "Love never dies, Sara." He did not want to let her go but he could not keep her, either. Pain etched across his smooth face the longer he looked at her, for his heart seemed to give way, and his breath hitched in his chest. It was as if time stood still within that moment, as he stood with her in the moonlight, holding her close. Perhaps, more than words alone could express, he could not bear living forever without knowing her love.

The lady released a sigh and nodded, while a soft, sad smile spread across her lips. She cupped her hands in front of her like a nun in prayer. The red moon shone upon her face, its light illuminating her fair features, while casting a soft halo around her. When he fell silent, she stepped toward him insistently, unwilling to leave him at the mercy of the night. However, the youth raised his hand focused his thoughts upon her. The skirt of her dress floated around her while her eyes widened, and her hand outstretched – reaching for him, only to know that he would not take it. She cried out as he lowered her toward the floor with his powers. His face was a mask of seriousness, which hid his brokenness when her beautiful innocence slowly slipped away from him. The vampire grimaced as he looked upon her, seeing the pain in her eyes, but unable to comfort her.

Quietly, he drifted away from her, and crouched upon the edge of the hole in the wall to view the nightscape. The tails of his robe fluttered around his slender form. He could vaguely see the outline of the castle's tallest spire peeking through the stormy clouds above. Only the lone crimson moon accompanied him. His steely eyes blinked under its faint red light while the wind caressed his face. With a parting lament, his humanoid shape transformed into the tiny, white form of a bat. He could feel Walter's irritation growing, the silent rage within his lord's heart and mind pulling at him more forcefully with each passing moment. Terrible, throbbing pain filled him before he outstretched his wings, and allowed the wind to carry him into the night. His finely tipped ears could hear Sara's voice calling after him as he ascended into the sky. He had no choice except to obey the red-haired demon. Walter's demand for his presence was more adamant than usual. He could almost feel the other vampire's rage prickling against his furry body while he flew toward the tower.

Tension ran through his entire body the moment he entered and saw his master sitting lazily upon the throne, with his feet stretched out and crossed, and his left hand resting upon its elaborate gold arm. Coils of thick red hair splayed against his shoulder blades as he slowly lifted his head, his dark eyes falling upon the pale creature floating in the doorway. With a sigh, he straightened in the red velvet throne like a cat awakening from a nap. His right hand clutched a wine glass, and a dull tapping noise broke the silence as his fingers drummed against it in a repetitively bored fashion. The sight of his lord made the youth hesitate, his pale eyes widening when the sound of Walter's low, eloquent voice greeted him. "Welcome, Joachim. You kept me waiting."

A tiny smirk spread across the pale creature's lips as he raised his head. Walter's stunning countenance, rich voice, and possessiveness was becoming tiring. Mutual displeasure reflected within Joachim's icy gaze when he replied coldly, his voice teetered on the barest thread of civility. "Perhaps you have forgotten the fact you asked me to babysit the human. I cannot be in two places at once, _Walter_."

For a moment, Walter raised an eyebrow and lifted one of his gauntlet-covered hands, tempted to strike him for his impertinence, though refraining. The youth's despondence seemed to enhance his curiosity. "Baron Belmont has not arrived, and I am growing tired of this game already. Perhaps, I shall begin another to pass the time."

Joachim continued to glare at the other lord. _You are growing tired of being alone. _A lump filled his throat as he stood, paralyzed, and nearly unable to respond. Without batting an eyelid, he stared into his lord's abyss-like eyes and forced a smile. The youth tossed his head, allowing his ivory locks to splay around his smooth, delicate features when he remarked. "No one has ever beaten you. What makes you think some pathetic human will?"

The grin upon Walter's lips broadened. "The Baron will lose. It is inevitable."

Rage seeped through his voice as he stabbed his master with his dagger-like glare. Although his face paled to the point of snow, the youth's acrid words attempted to erode away his master's amusement."I am tired of hearing you talk about games, Walter!"

A tint of red flashed within Walter's irises with a will to incinerate the pale creature. His lips parted, revealing the points of his razor-sharp incisors as his voice rose, making the room tremble when he snarled. "Very well. Perhaps, we should discuss the matter of the lady instead?" A shadow appeared across the red-haired vampire's pallid face, and he leaned forward in his chair, his penetrating gaze intensifying upon the stunned youth. His smooth, flawless lips curved into a delighted smirk when his suggestion received no acknowledgement. Joachim simply stared at the demon, his voice trapped in his throat, while his eyes became wide and glassy. The dark spheres of Walter's eyes focused upon him, and his deep voice lowered. "Yes...it seems you have been more attentive than I thought, Joachim."

"What of it?" He snapped, feeling the tension in his body increase until he drifted forward, and forced his lips into a smile. Walter's eyes followed him as he continued, his voice reclaiming its former calm. "Can't I play along with this game, too? It is so rare for you to have guests remain alive for as long as she has?" A soft chuckle vibrated through his throat and he flicked a strand of hair away from his face, dismissing his lord's remark almost effortlessly. "It's too bad; she won't get to watch her saintly knight die by your hand."

"Indeed, it is. But I wonder if you truly regret her fate, my dear servant." Walter's eyes narrowed before he reached for an object set beside the throne. With a huff, the vampire withdrew a familiar woven basket. Horror filled Joachim the moment his eyes fell upon the accursed object. Yet, he veiled his surprise beneath a shroud of apathy, and barely gave the basket a glance as the sound of his master's voice echoed across the room. "This basket was left in my theatre...curious, is it not? Although you may have acquired a partiality for human food, I doubt very much that is true. Please, enlighten me, Joachim."

The youth folded his arms across his chest. Repugnance swept across his face and he raised an eyebrow defensively. Impatient to dismiss it, he scoffed. "You are quite neglectful of your guests. Humans are weak, whining creatures. I killed a traveler and took his provisions so that the girl would no longer saddle me with her complaints."

"Interesting..." Walter's dark eyes glinted, and his tightened around the wine glass. A low, amused chuckle escaped the vampire's lips as he tossed his head, allowing the lush coils of his thick red hair to fall recklessly across his muscled shoulders. Everything about Walter spoke of a terrifying grace, and the sound of his voice alone commanded the youth's undivided attention. The vampire lord's intensity was as attractive as it was sinister. Joachim only wished that he could escape from the sight of his master's cavernous, dark eyes, which sought the secrets contained within his heart and soul. When he thought he could bear it no longer, the bitterness within Walter's voice immobilized him. "I expected you might have bitten the lady eventually, but you have refrained from harming her in the slightest. Your willpower is quite something."

"I feasted upon humans before I claimed her," Joachim flicked his hand in dismissal, allowing a tiny smile to appear upon his lips. "I am afraid; I am not hungry at present."

"Do not test me, Joachim!" The repressed anger within the red-haired vampire's eyes suddenly became alit. With an irritated snarl, Walter raised his gauntlet-covered hand and threw the wine glass onto the floor. The glass exploded with a resounding shatter against the throne steps, causing its contents to spill like blood across its marble surface. Joachim eyed the broken object warily, feeling his throat tighten under his lord's stabbing glare. Walter's smooth lips drew back, exposing the points of his needle-sharp fangs, while a dull, crimson glimmer seeped within his dark eyes. "I know you are succumbing to your thirst. Despite your efforts to conceal it, your longing for blood is insatiable! I wonder, however, if there are things you long for even more."

"What other things?" Joachim hissed, willing to challenge the red-haired demon, if only to prove the contrary. "It is so like you to chastise me for not dedicating my existence to your every whim, Walter. The girl is a simple plaything; I shall tire of her soon enough...and when that happens, I cannot guarantee there will be anything left of her afterwards."

Walter fell silent, his dark eyes locked upon the pale creature with growing frustration. One of his gauntlet-covered hands balled into a fist. "I expected you would judge me. The lady is, admittedly, lovely but far bolder than to my liking. Nevertheless, you are becoming more noticeably defiant, as of late, Joachim. It displeases me greatly." When Joachim parted his lips in an attempt to retort, Walter held up a hand, his eyes casting the pale youth a warning glare whilst he continued. "I have not forgotten our little disagreement in the garden, nor your lecherous activities with the Succubus. And now…"

A sigh parted through the demon's lips as he lowered his head, turning away from the young man as though he had lost interest in their conversation. Joachim knew it was quite the contrary, for he saw his lord's powerful muscles tense and his stance become rigid. He felt his heart scream to apologize, however, his mind refused to give in. In spite of his pain, Joachim felt the same weakness for his lord – the inseparable desire to be with him. To stay by his side, forever protected in his beautiful, powerful embrace. Profound sadness lingered in Walter's voice while they stared at one another. At last, his red-haired lord turned to face him again, his dark eyes shining in the dimly lit room. Pain etched across his once elegant face, his lips verging on trembling whilst his quavering fist unfolded.

Walter wrung his hands. The red-haired lord's pained expression deepened whilst he continued emphatically. "Do not mistake my affection for you as weakness, Joachim. I am beloved by the night and have none. However, it is not too late for us to make amends. I have been rather…unfair." With a sigh, he rose from the throne, and a twinge of sympathy appeared within his eyes while his majestic, pallid face gazed upon the youth. The red-haired demon's sombre quietness emanated a possessive quality that nearly made Joachim draw away.

"_Unfair_?" The youth sneered, barely withholding the urge to laugh as he hissed. "You are well beyond _unfair_, Walter."

In spite of his hatred, the vulnerable part of him craved his lord's affection. He adored the way Walter spoke, moved, killed, and lavished attention upon him like a prince. It seemed so right, until his thoughts wandered to the woman at the mercy of the vampire's cruel game. Sara sought to rescue the wretched, fallen nobleman before he lost himself to the curse completely. Human memories, once so vivid, were slowly disappearing from his mind. A soft, sad smile spread across Joachim's lips as he bowed his head in an attempt to retreat from his lord's penetrating gaze. He feared what would happen if he looked up at Walter's elegant face, for he knew his feelings would drive him further into darkness. Joachim approached his lord's towering frame and concealed his shame behind curtains of silky, ivory hair. Before he could consider how to respond, he felt Walter's gauntlet-covered fingers slide beneath his chin and tilt his head up. In a matter of seconds, his lover's ashen visage transfixed him completely.

A gentle smile appeared upon Walter's graceful lips. Everything about the red-haired vampire fascinated him. Joachim's pale eyes widened, though without realizing it, he flinched from his lord's touch as if it burned his flesh raw. Sensing his fear, a sigh escaped through Walter's lips before his rich voice filled the silence. The demon's other hand stroked the fine, silky locks of his hair tenderly, as if fearing the pale creature would disappear at any moment. "I do not ask for your forgiveness; I ask only that you consider the privileges I have bestowed upon you since your turning. Tis' true, you have lost a great deal, but the rewards are more than justifiable. I may be inclined to give you everything, if only you accept my authority over the night."

Joachim winced under Walter's touch. Yet, his pale eyes succumbed to the magnetic force of the demon's gaze. Desire began to overpower his fear the longer he looked at Walter's beautiful countenance. He admired his lord's dignity and grace as if he were divine, to the point that he nearly adored and despised him with equal passion. "What if I…refuse?" He asked, willing to risk angering Walter, if only to free himself from his imprisonment.

"Do not say such things," Walter soothed, his face drawing closer, until his lips hovered over the pale youth's, as if pretending not to have heard his response. "I cherish you, Joachim. Tis' all that matters."

"No," He breathed, the moment he felt his master's cold lips brush against his own. Despite his admiration, anger surged beneath the cold blue spheres of his eyes like a hurricane. The moment he replied, the smile upon Walter's face abruptly faded, as if the young man's words had the power to strip away everything he was. Rage and yearning began to build within Joachim's injured soul. Walter's hold tightened around him, nearly suffocating him, as the youth whispered anxiously. "You know I cannot accept. To cherish someone is to love them unconditionally. I wish to live by my own terms – not yours. Now, release me, so that I may take leave of you. This conversation is wearisome."

He tried to pull away, but Walter's hand seized his hair with the swiftness of a viper, and jerked his head back. If he had wished it, the red-haired demon could have snapped his neck almost effortlessly. Walter's grip upon him tightened, and a radiant shade of red flashed through his eyes whilst he yanked the frail creature closer. The moment Joachim's accusing gaze flew to his, Walter's voice quavered with restrained fury. Pain etched across the vampire lord's graceful features as he hissed. "I shall tolerate your insolence no longer, Joachim! You will never be anything more than a wretched cur. I thought you might entertain me, as you once did, but you have proven the contrary."

"What a pity," Joachim ignored the pain enough to grace his lord's threat with a smile. "It seems you have to find other sources of entertainment. You think that everything can be yours to own and control, Walter. I once thought it flattering that you desired my presence, but I have come to realize that everything _must_ be your way. Do not insult me by concealing your jealousy beneath a guise of cordiality. Tis' pathetic - you envy a human girl that, by your own will, you forced unto me! Now, you sit in your throne and jeer me for bestowing her kindness you wish I would show you. You demonstrate no mercy, compassion, or even the slightest concern over her fate. Though you speak grandly of affection and empathy, you know it not...and some part of me pities you, but not enough to justify your cruelty. Perhaps, eventually, you shall realize that you do not have as much control as you are accustomed to believing. I suppose your search for the Crimson Stone is not going well. Perhaps, Mathias would be willing to assist you instead-"

"The Crimson Stone is near, and it will soon be mine!" Walter snapped, gripping the youth's hair with more force, until the sound of his servant's indignant cry rewarded him. Within seconds, the red-haired vampire's powerful hand shoved the youth to his knees upon the floor, his dark eyes flashing a shade of red whilst he continued smoothly. "I shall search to the ends of the earth until I find it. My soul is eternal, and nothing is beyond my will. Even though you think you have lost everything, there is still more I can take from you, if I wish. You do not yet understand the extent of my power over you. Your humanity makes you weak, and you will endure the penalty of your sympathy for humans if you continue to disobey me…" With a snarl, the demon's grip abruptly released, and he slammed the youth's frail body against the floor.

Joachim wheezed as he looked up at his lord's furious countenance. The indignity of being thrown about like a toy sent shockwaves of anger through him, which he veiled beneath a guise of alarm. Nevertheless, no words could satisfy his desire to tear his lord's throat apart. He restrained his hatred in a sullen silence, his pale eyes lingering upon Walter as the vampire lord seated himself upon the throne, and cast a scathing glare, as if the pale nobleman were Judas himself. A brief silence passed, until at last, Walter heaved an impatient sigh. His rich, calm voice lowered to a growl. "Our conversation is at an end. Now, get out of my sight." When the young man whirled to depart, he felt Walter's intense, distrustful dark optics follow him as he went. Without bothering a reply, he threw the throne room's heavy stone door open – and deliberately slammed it shut behind him.

Desperation rang through the core of Joachim's soul as he descended the carpeted stairway of the throne room, his ivory hair fluttering wildly in the howling wind. He was greatly relieved to be rid of his master's prying gaze. It seemed ironic that, for a creature whose existence defied death, time was suddenly against him. Rage appeared across his once calm expression until pure, seething hatred warped his features. The youth's hands clenched into fists as he flew within the castle, his glowing form rushing through the monster-infested rooms and corridors with unparalleled speed. The long tails of his robes fanned behind him as he continued onward. Nothing in Walter's castle dare challenge the pale demon during his descent into its depths. Anger burned within him like wildfire when he revisited the entryway of the demon's underground prison. The ominous dark blue door drew his attention like nothing he had ever seen within the castle. Walter had not bothered to strengthen the magic over the door. The room's offensive stench of dried blood sought to warn him of the peril he would face if he unlocked whatever lay within its depths. However, he was unwilling to yield to the monstrous darkness looming below the metal grate on which he stood. He could hear the great beast's laboured breaths accompanied by hopeless rumbling against the walls. If he released it, there was no telling if he would be able to re-imprison it again.

Joachim lingered in front of the door, his light blue eyes gleaming in the shadowy, blood-soaked room. He did not know exactly how powerful the seal was, and so he commanded one of his swords to rise above him with his thoughts, angling the blade directly at the center of the door. The sword's metallic surface flashed until the blade's deadly tip suddenly tinted crimson. With a cry, he sent the blade directly into the door, and heard an unrewarding clang of metal reverberate through the room when the seal knocked the blade across the room. The huge sword flew back, narrowly missing his head, and slid sideways over the stone floor. The vampire summoned the sword to lift itself up and align with the others behind his back. Not even his five loyal blades were capable of affecting the door in the slightest.

_The seal over this door is more powerful than I thought. Perhaps, the tactician was truthful in that I have relied upon my weapons for too long. Yet, my abilities have vastly improved, and I may need to unleash them in a single attack - if I can..._

Concern wore upon his smooth features as he studied the door, and considered the possibility of accumulating his power. The task was daunting, but he had no other options left. He sighed and stared at the door, concentrating his thoughts upon it, while his mind summoned the energy building within him. Like an approaching storm, a thin red ring surrounded his slender form as he struggled to contain his telekinetic powers into a single assault. His mind was not accustomed to the pressure of focusing so intensely, for his swords were easier to manipulate than a psychic burst. He did not know if it would even work, nor if he would lose consciousness under the strain he endured. A terrible, throbbing pain ripped through his mind while he combined all of his power into his swords. In obedience, the blades rose up, angled their points at the door, and formed a half-circle around him. The centermost blade rose up above his head, while two hovered at shoulder-level, and the remaining two on either side of his legs just above the floor. He spread his arms, and fought to keep the power building inside him contained long enough to unleash its full force. He felt his feet lift off the floor as the tails of his robes fluttered around him under the control of his telekinetic magnetism. It took all of his strength, but his eyes flew open upon feeling a colossal energy course through his mind and body, and build to a nearly uncontrollable concentration. Without fully realizing it, his hands shot out in front of him as he crossed his wrists, knowing that he could no longer contain it. A bright, circular-shaped bluish white light appeared in front of him, until with a cry, a beam of white light shot forth from his hands and collided against the door. He held his position, nearly blinded by the light, which struck the heavy stone blockade with incredible speed and strength.

Amidst the blinding stream of light, he noticed the blue door trembled, before its heavy frame violently gave way. A loud crash resounded and made the stonework of the room shudder under the impact of the door swinging open and colliding against the concealed passageway's interior wall. The magic over the door had grown much weaker than he expected. Panting and exhausted, he ceased his attack, and stumbled forward against the wall beside the door. Curtains of lush white hair fell around his smooth face, whilst he greedily absorbed the sight of the unsealed door, and revelled in his accomplishment. As tempting as it was to explore what lay beyond the door's mysterious, shadowy depths, a strange feeling overwhelmed him. He could not describe it clearly, but instinct warned him that something was gravely amiss. Sudden, unexplainable terror filled him whilst he pushed himself away from the wall and turned round toward the teleport room, his face a mask of dread and horror. His sallow lips parted, as he stood frozen by apprehension like a deer alerted of a nearby predator. A stabbing coldness surged through his heart, and his hands began to tremble, as the impulse to _hurry_ urged him to depart. Someone, somewhere, was calling him – _screaming_ for him…

Joachim's robes fluttered around him as he ran into the teleport room, his face gradually losing all of the color it possessed. As if possessed by a spirit, he flew through the laboratory's narrow corridors, unable to think about anything except the source of his unease. The five blades aligned behind his back abruptly began whirling around him, alert and restless from their master's disturbance. He continued onward through the laboratory – ignoring the lumbering zombies – until he reached the room he sought. A horrible, enraged scream erupted from his throat as he flung back its heavy doors, his eyes furiously darting across the room. The desk beside the telescope was overturned, and a sea of books and papers were scattered recklessly across the floor. The table's worn chair was across the room and lay on its side, splintered to pieces. A sharp, pained whining sound faintly reached his ears until his wild, searching eyes fell upon the wolf-like beast lying in a heap in the middle of the room. Blood pooled around its tattered inky-black form, which clung to life by a thread. Joachim lingered in the doorway, his eyes widening, whilst the terrible, vengeful grip of despair seized his broken soul and consumed him completely.

Sara was gone.


	32. Chapter 32: Rebellion

**Author's Note: **Well, it's been months since my last update due to a busy summer. The bad news is that this chapter was one of the most challenging to write (plotwise and descriptivewise) but the good news is that, after a lot of work, I've finally decided to post it. Joachim in LoI strongly implied through the quote "I would've won" that he and Walter's conflict reached a breaking point, possibly to the extent of a battle for control over Eternal Night. Well, history (err...the game) is the writer of who won, but you can read how it all went down. I hope this chapter was worth the wait!

**Special Thanks:** Thank you **LateNiteSlacker** for taking time out of your busy schedule to edit this chapter! Other thanks go to **AzariyaBelmont** for always leaving reviews/comments about my work, as well as **danceofgold** for the continued support and feedback. Sorry for seeming kind of inactive lately, but I greatly appreciate hearing from you and hope you will continue reading!

**Chapter XXXII**

Joachim flew up the tower steps, the tails of his robes flapping behind him in the howling wind like unfurled wings. The red moon peeked above the tower, its faint light illuminating the white features of his face. His lips drew into a cold, dark sneer the moment he came before the tower door. Fear throbbed through his heart when his pale blue eyes surveyed the nightscape beyond. A terrible injustice had been committed upon Sara, and upon him, which Walter could never rectify.

Walter stood beside the throne; the dark spheres of his eyes fixing upon Joachim with predatory intensity. With the dignity of a king, he gave the youth a graceful nod before ushering grandly to the woman standing by his side. The vampire lord towered over Sara's petite stature like a panther guarding its prey. His gaze flitted from him to Sara, and his refined lips lifted into a coy smirk. The luscious coils of crimson hair cascaded against his shoulders like rivers of blood, spilling across lifeless porcelain cheeks, their perfection masking centuries of tarnished glory. The vampire lord's calm demeanor, though practiced, failed to hide the venomous intentions surging beneath his sculpted form. The muscles veiled beneath folds of cold, red steel tensed anxiously, whilst his gauntlet-covered hands curled into fists. Like a dark sea, his long, black cape fluttered lightly around Sara's shoulders, encasing her within their folds while the demon's heavy arm slinked across her shoulders and pulled her close like a dragon guarding gold. Mockingly, his other hand lifted and cupped her chin, forcing her head up as though she were a doll.

Walter's eyes focused upon the white-haired youth, and his voice resonated through the room, immobilizing Joachim to the point that his body became statue-like. "Welcome, Joachim. I see you enjoyed entertaining the lady; it was gracious of you to not feed upon her during my absence. I am greatly looking forward to rewarding you…personally."

The sight of Walter and Sara standing so near to each other unsettled the other vampire, who stared back blankly in surprise, his eyes barely blinking under the penetrating aura of his lord's gaze. "What do you mean?" He choked, feeling like a fool the moment the question fled his lips. Something inside his mind screamed for him to snatch Sara out of his lord's grasp, but his feet felt as heavy as lead, and were unwilling to move. They stared at each other, seemingly lost in the silence encompassing the vast room. Although Walter was at a distance, the red-haired demon's presence suffocated him, for everything about the vampire lord demanded acknowledgement.

Walter's superior strength effortlessly restrained Sara. Despite her aversion of her captor, her voice held its calm sweetness. The lady lifted her head, the spheres of her sanguine eyes gazing upon the white-haired vampire, their softness drawing his eyes to hers whilst her tender lips moved to speak. Upon hearing her voice, Joachim flinched. "If you must obey Lord Bernhard, so be it. Leon shall have no one to save, and no need to endanger himself any longer." Sara cupped her hands in front of her, her eyes professing a profound grief that he had never before laid eyes upon. The humanity of her soul forced him to confront his own, tortured existence, which he had believed was devoid of compassion. Like a lamb brought to the slaughter, she stood near the one who oppressed them both, the lord of Eternal Night, in a manner of dignified solemnity. "I wish for no harm to befall you, Lord Armster. Do not condemn yourself, no matter what becomes of me."

"Ah, such nobility…" Walter mused. A low chuckle vibrated within his throat whilst the stunned youth looked on, his face paling when the red-haired vampire's hand slipped from her chin to her neck, stroking her throat in slow, even circles. Her unexpected lack of resistance prompted him to add silkily. "Although the lady's sentiments are amusing, her company has reached its end. You have spent a great deal of time with her, Joachim – far more than I should have permitted."

At first, Joachim did not know how to respond. Never before had Walter been so openly possessive of a human captive. As if lost in a nightmare, he could feel the other vampire's eyes burning against his and threaten to engulf him within their dark pools. The youth's fine lips formed a frown, his pale eyes giving his red-haired tormentor a look of cold restraint alongside his condescending reply. "You asked me to watch over her, and I fulfilled my obligation. I ensured her survival, but why, now, decide her fate? Baron Belmont may not believe she still lives without proof-"

"I am not interested in your opinion!" Walter snapped. "It is not you who has the power to decide. I am curious to know why the lady was so worthy of your attention."

"She was a foolish young woman, who would have easily fallen victim to the monsters. You wished to consume her blood, and I thought it wise to ensure that our guest was not devoured prematurely." He resisted the urge to return Walter's skeptical observation with an insult. Nevertheless, Joachim raised his head, and felt his lips lift into a proud sneer.

Joachim's disagreeable demeanor, in addition to the indifference in which he addressed Walter, seemed to spark something akin to disgust within the red-haired vampire. For a moment, Walter raised his other hand as if to strike him, but unexpectedly ushered to Sara. Unwilling to be baited so easily, the smirk upon his lips broadened, though the words they spoke were far from complimentary. "And you were a very skilled guardian." Walter whispered. "Since you have done so well keeping her alive, I have decided to reward you…with her blood."

Joachim only gazed back at the red-haired vampire, and was unable to move. The terrible thirst ached within his mouth, but Sara's calm proved too much, and he could not convince himself to consume her. Yet, it was within his nature to hunger, for his lord's offer appealed to the ravenous, insidious hunger building inside him. An aching thirst filled his throat and drove tremors of pain through his entire body. He could see the veins beneath her skin; their intertwining networks veiled only by delicate, fair white flesh. However, he was determined to repel the urge, for Sara's kindness and selflessness called to his soul, which he nearly lost to the brutality of vampirism. He despised his shadow-self, the side of him that wished only to devour and corrupt, the darkness within that sought to snuff out his humanity.

Desperately, he longed to preserve the fragile remnants of his human memories, which seemed to be his last link to the mortal world. Memories of himself seated in his armchair by the hearth, wisps of ivory hair brushing across his warm, pale skin whilst he read _Beowulf_ - his hand enclosing around a porcelain china cup, feeling hot steam waft across his nostrils until the calming taste of tea slid down his throat. Memories of the summer sun drenching him in its glorious light during Sunday afternoon walks. Memories of casual conversations - silly remarks about the weather, servants, and dinner - things that he once found frivolous, and in spite of himself, grieved he could never re-experience…

Upon noticing the youth hesitate, Walter's eyes glinted, and his voice lowered. "Do you still wish to protect her? Her usefulness has long since passed, dear servant."

The word _servant_ made something within Joachim break, like a rock shattering a glass windowpane. He tried to restrain the ferocity caged within himself, but anger threatened to undermine his composure. With a cool huff, the young man tossed his head, curtaining his displeasure behind locks of his silvery white hair. Sara's crystalline eyes were filled with dread, and she looked on at him in silence. He shot the young woman a scathing look, and realized that his stance was much more rigid than he expected. Despite his attempted disdain, his desire to conceal his weakness for Sara was waning. "You think this helpless girl is a worthy reward for obedience? Do not insult me. You fail to understand that damsels in distress are of no interest to me-"

"Oh, but I do understand…" Walter hissed. The demon's eyes bore into the young man's with the intensity of an inquisitor, their dark spheres locking with Joachim's pale blue. "I understand well enough, to know you are refraining for _another _reason. If you refuse to drink from her, your feelings will betray you at last."

Joachim's eyes widened and he fell completely still under the penetrating force of Water's gaze. It took great effort for him to find the words to reply. "My feelings?" He gave the other vampire a sardonic sneer. "Yes, Walter, why don't we both sit down and share our _feelings_ over a glass of blood. I will pretend I did not hear your implication."

"Silence!" Walter snapped, his eyes kindling a shade of vibrant crimson. "Disobey me this time, and you will _never_ be forgiven." His hand balled into a fist and the dangerous glint in his eyes intensified. "For centuries, I have played games with humans. Do not attempt to mask the transparency of your emotions, Joachim. Your dedication to the lady is no different than Baron Belmont's, and equally as hopeless."

Joachim lifted his head and held it high, eyeing his master with rising impatience. Sara was standing so close to Walter that, at any given moment, the red-haired vampire could tear her to pieces in the blink of an eye. He remembered a time when he was a spirited young man with a gentle disposition, who loved reading by the fireplace and playing games of chess. It seemed like a simple life, until Walter stole his innocence away. Everything he held dear to his heart was gone: his village, home, and his life because of the red-haired demon standing before him.

The castle and the forest surrounding it was a forlorn, brooding place, with abnormal perpetual darkness. A profound aspect of him wished to see Eternal Night's lonely rooms drenched in sunlight, as they might have been during a long forgotten era. Although the sun could never grace him with its light, Sara could dwell within its golden rays, and restore the castle to its former magnificence. It was an impossible dream, but he dreamed it nonetheless, for he was weary of endless night. Even vampires needed sleep. Walter's presence exhausted him – his incessant games, unnatural wakefulness, and boredom defied the very nature of vampires. If darkness gave way to daylight, eternity could regain its beauty and discovery. Daytime promised rest and recuperation, until the night could greet him with its glorious stars and arcane stillness. Images of pain and suffering disturbed him because he could never sleep as long as Eternal Night was shrouded in darkness. Walter was afraid of daylight, normalcy, and rest – for even demons had demons of their own to haunt them in their dreams.

_The night must fall!_

If he was cast into disgrace, he would at least know love again. He would lead Sara out of the shadows and return her to the light where she belonged. Joachim looked upon her anguished face, feeling her apprehension and fear for him growing each passing moment, for they were both standing upon the brink of the dark abyss. He was prepared to fall into the shadows, if only to save her from them. Determination swept across his pale features whilst he looked Walter in the eye, his voice filling with revulsion. He would not hide behind a façade of indifference any longer.

He eyed the Ebony Stone - the source of Walter's power, while his thoughts lingered upon Sara and his own, uncertain fate. "I will not kill her, and condemn her as you condemned me! Sara does not deserve such a cruel fate."

"_What_?" Walter's eyes blazed and his hands balled into fists, ready to crush the frail creature like an insect. Disbelief shattered the vampire lord's composed façade. Nearly trembling, Walter's great frame towered over him and cast a dark shadow across the youth's delicate form as he snarled between gritted teeth, his once dark spheres alighting a shade of brilliant red. The rage and impatience within his voice intensified. "You still cling to your pathetic humanity despite my efforts to prove the futility of their existence! The brevity of human life is not worth your desire to spare her from the inevitability of death. Should you disobey me, your insolence will only bring greater suffering upon you."

"So greatly have I suffered, more will not make a difference!" Whether he survived was of no consequence, as long as she could escape from the darkness that had imprisoned his soul the night he was bitten and turned. In an effort to reiterate his defiance, the creature allowed the five blades to leave their dormant position behind him. The swords obeyed his thoughts and began orbiting around him, their sickly greenish light casting a shadow across his ashen visage. He clenched his hand into a fist. Boldness filled his voice when he spoke, his words poisoning his adversary's confidence. "For far too long, I have bowed to your will, like a serf before a lord. So much have I given you, but what have you given me in return? Eternity, perhaps, but not autonomy! Your need for power and control disgusts me; I can no longer look upon you, for all I feel toward you is hatred."

"This is not a game that you can win!" The loose coils of the demon's lush red hair seemed to compliment the flickering crimson glow within his starlit optics. A slow, deliberate smirk spread across the vampire's lips whilst his titan-like form drew Sara nearer to him, his power alone forcing the young woman unwillingly by his side. "I am curious to know how you will comprehend the matter of the lady's death. Your refusal is disappointing. I gave you everything…and yet, you turn from me like an ungrateful child! As I expected, you refuse to accept the fact that this woman, like your beloved Catherine, shall fall to you as you fell to me-"

"_Don't!_" Barely conscious of his own rage, a roar escaped the youth's throat, and he pointed his index finger at the red-haired demon, gnashing his incisors. "Don't you _ever_ speak her name! You have merely confirmed the fact that, if I must live for eternity, I will ensure that you do not. Eternal Night – and the Ebony Stone – will belong to _me_."

Sara's bright blue eyes widened, and the moment she neared her captor, the sound of her cry made the pale vampire's throat tighten. "Joachim, you must not lust for power-"

"You know as well as I, the truth is not so simple, Walter!" Joachim added, his voice rising alongside his rage. He could hear Sara pleading for him to refrain but there was no turning back. The arrogant smirk upon Walter's face made the blood in his withered veins boil with rage. "You are so skilled at spinning tales that you ensnare yourself within them!"

Walter gave the young vampire a look of cold indifference. Although his voice was steady, rage simmered like a cauldron within his unblinking, dark eyes. Upon hearing the young man's words, the demon fell completely still. A low chuckle escaped his throat as if the dark intentions his servant held toward him were of little importance. "Your imagination never ceases to amuse me, Joachim."

"I will no longer watch you torture innocents!" The young man began, his eyes narrowing accusingly. "Though I have committed many horrible crimes, I will not drink from her. Servitude is far beneath me. I deserve much more than that."

"What makes you think you are entitled to rule?" Walter chuckled, his dark eyes glinting with amusement, which contrasted against the scowl slowly appearing upon his lips. The vampire lord released an exasperated sigh. "I am hardly inclined to agree…" The sound of his rich laughter stung the young man's ears, whilst he added condescendingly. "You think you can take the Ebony Stone from me? I am certain you will discover that victory is but a distant hope after I break you of your spirit. Surrender now, and I may not tear you to a thousand pieces, along with that human you try to protect." His blood red armor gleamed under the torchlight and seemed to exaggerate the severity of his rage.

Joachim felt his feet lift off the ground until his slender figure levitated over the floor. A flicker of disgust clouded his pale blue irises a shade of brilliant red. He bared his fangs while the swords whirled around him. With a low chuckle, his eyes locked with the red-haired lord's, his calm voice articulating his resolve. "_No_."

Walter's smile faded; his flaming red locks cascaded against his cheekbones. "Must you consume yourself in hopeless quarrels, Joachim? Do not forget, you have been defiant in the past, and lost. Your devotion to this girl is ridiculous. What would you do should Leon come for her? Humans dwell in the light…the accursed sunlight, which burns our flesh and corrodes our bodies into ash. Perhaps, you mightn't go with them...but soon, as it was in the past, you would realize their fear of you…"

Joachim's eyes widened when Sara's frightened scream alerted him. "Joachim!" his head jolted to the right, where Walter's form translocated and levitated above the floor. He summoned another sword and sent it hurtling forward, his lips curving into a grin when the blade stabbed the other vampire through the shoulder. Walter's throat released an agonized roar, and his frame staggered, straining to remain standing as rivers of blood poured from the wound he inflicted.

Joachim summoned the blade back, smirking at the sight of the bright crimson blood trickling down Walter's armored frame. "As you can see, _master_, I am not as weak as you think." He scoffed. But something Walter said still injured the deepest part of his soul. He shook his head, trying to banish the thought from his mind, but his lips still spoke the terrible admission. "They would…fear me…"

"I hope that is not your best, since this battle is _far_ from over_._" Suddenly, Walter lifted his arm and formed three dark spheres in front of him, which exploded and sent the pale youth reeling halfway across the room. "Ah, how it thrills me to wipe that conceited little smirk off your face!" Walter's glittering eyes followed the young vampire, who had taken the full impact of the attack. The sour tang of blood welled in his mouth as he staggered to his feet, wincing upon feeling currents of pain surge through his chest and arms like jolts of electricity.

Joachim scanned the room in search of him, and jumped back when Walter's frame appeared before him and cuffed him with the back of his hand. "You impertinent little fool!" The vampire lord's dark eyes lit with a shade of crimson as the white-haired youth fell back against the floor. Joachim's grasping hand snatched Walter by the collar – and with as much strength as he could muster – dragged the other vampire's bulkier form onto the floor with him. Fortunately, he landed on top of the larger vampire, and dug his nails into the silky black fabric of his lord's collar like a master restraining a vicious dog. However, as easily as swatting away a fly, Walter seized him by the trusses securing the back of his chest armor and yanked him off.

"I remember when you enjoyed this," A tiny smirk spread across the demon's lips, his rich voice resonating through the young man's wounded pride. "I might still have a purpose for you after I quell your pathetic attempt to defeat me. I doubt very much, you will find pleasure in it as much as I."

Walter's knee collided against the youth's vulnerable chest. The impact from the blow was so severe he coughed up a spurt of bloodied saliva as the red-haired lord aimed a heavy kick at his side. He barely had time to dodge the blow, but he managed to roll out of the way before Walter could inflict more damage. Joachim readied his swords and sent them all away the second Walter reappeared. The vampire lord's gauntlet shot up the moment all five of his servant's massive glowing swords careened toward him, but he only managed to avoid three of the blades before two ripped through his shoulder and waist.

Horror stricken, Sara looked on at the two vampires' forms, her lips releasing a scream the moment Walter had kicked him. As if oblivious to her own vulnerability, she rushed forth and flung her arms around the white-haired vampire's waist, the unexpectedness of her action allowing her frail strength to pull him back. Walter's ironclad fist swung at the side of Joachim's face and narrowly missed due to her intervention. "I will not let you hurt him!" She cried. Somehow, her soft voice acquired a power he did not know it could possess, for her kind eyes were alit with fiery rage. "You cannot own a soul, Lord Bernhard!"

The young vampire swept away to gain some distance, while his voice shouted across the room. "Cover me!" his mind summoned the swords back to him, and the last two managed to pull themselves out of Walter's armor. He allowed them to still behind his back but kept his posture steady. Walter emitted a guttural growl to create flash of white light in his hand. The red-haired vampire lifted the energy into the air and threw it forward. The glowing white light spiraled toward the youth with lightning speed. Despite Joachim's efforts to dodge the attack, the light followed his movements and exploded. Searing pain ripped through his body whilst he shielded Sara from the attack's remnants, and he felt the smooth skin on his face burn and erode. Red flashed through his eyes before he lifted his head, ignoring the pain, and sent his swords hurtling toward the other vampire.

Whether it was out of arrogance or insult, Walter had already begun to turn away, a smirk pressed across his ashen lips as if the battle was already won. However, upon sighting the incensed creature's five blades, he whirled to avoid them. Walter's long black cape fanned around his muscled shoulders, and the shimmering coils of his blood red hair swept against delicately contoured cheeks. His expression, once transfixed by satisfaction, warped into agony when the five relentless blades plunged through his breastplate.

Walter writhed under the impact. With the swords still impaled through his chest, he crumpled forward, and a fountain of blood gushed down his heaving frame. "Your pathetic efforts…will yield nothing. I have reigned over this castle for centuries…even though you are a vampire, my power is far superior to your own." The words fled from his bloodied lips with bitter satisfaction, as Joachim's broken body attempted to get up after colliding against the wall. His burning red optics watched Walter slowly straighten and rip the sword out. Blood covered the metallic blade, its vivid claret hue gleaming in the torchlight. "_Lest you forget, it was I who gave you eternal life._" Without hesitating, the red-haired lord grasped the other blade by the hilt and tore it from his flesh with a single, swift jerk. The blood-covered swords hovered around his armored frame whilst the pale youth concentrated his thoughts, preparing to strike again, until the demon's armored form vanished in a flash of white light.

Joachim's struggled to keep his mind focused. Despite attempting to subdue his oppressor, his attacks seemed to have little impact. He staggered against the wall, gasping and coughing up clots of blood. His skin appeared to lose all the color it possessed, and despite managing to keep his concentration, it took much longer for the swords to return to him.

Walter reappeared in front of Sara. Her mouth gaped as he lunged upon her, his eyes blazing and fangs gnashing, while his gauntlet-covered hand sought to snatch the young woman within his grasp. "Foolish girl," he snarled. "Why do you pity this insolent wretch? It would only be a matter of time before his will overcame yours. It is the nature of all vampires to consume blood. How dare you taint and corrupt him with human ideals-"

"Ideals?" Sara snapped, her eyes narrowing the moment Walter's clawing fingers came within inches of her face. When it seemed like fear would rob her of her voice, she refused to concede. "It is _you_ who tainted and corrupted him. I am neither immortal nor powerful, and yet, you _fear_ me. You do not understand…and Leon may not understand why…but I won't let anyone else suffer as you made Lord Armster suffer!"

"Alas, you are misguided." The demon hissed, his eyes burning a brighter shade of red the moment Joachim's steel blades shot in front of his face and impaled themselves into the floor between he and the young woman. The metal barrier separating them did not hinder Walter from continuing as though it was merely an annoyance. The vampire lord gave the swords a wary glance, his dark eyes focusing intensely upon Sara's gentle countenance, their dark spheres attempting to mar her resolve. "I am interested to know why you _love_ him, Lady Trantoul, for it is difficult to comprehend his imprudence otherwise. I am the decider of his fate…and yours."

"That is untrue, Lord Bernhard." Sara replied, releasing an exasperated sigh. "How I wish you would not try to control death, for you fail to realize, how death controls you. You live…to watch others die…whilst the innocence within your soul slowly dies with them. The fact you would condemn Joachim to a similar fate is unjustifiable. Though I am bound by the devil's will, God shall be my witness, and may your cruelty one day be brought to an end, Lord Bernhard!"

Walter's voice had become a low rasp, occasionally silenced by the blood trickling down the corners of his refined lips. The vampire lord's starlit optics looked beyond Sara's determined expression to the pale, gasping creature slumped against the wall at the back of the room. Upon feeling the intensity of his lord's gaze upon him, Joachim abruptly straightened and staggered forward, his face a mask of fury and dread.

Walter would not relinquish Sara willingly. The insatiable need to retaliate had corrupted his confident façade. "I made you what you are, a perfect being who would have lived forever by my side, if only you had chosen to kill her. Eternal Night will _never_ be yours."

Joachim attempted to move himself away from the demon; however, his strength was fading. Blood gushed from his wounds and stained the beautiful fabric of his robes crimson. He staggered forward, rasping curses under his breath, his eyes smoldering with rage. He could not move fast enough to protect her, for the room was beginning to spin and everything blurred. "Don't you see…?" He gasped, feeling the air drain from his lungs with each word he spoke. One his hands covered a wound in his shoulder, feeling the sticky wetness of blood squish between his trembling fingers. With a bitter laugh, he snarled. "I would rather die for her, than live for you."

Though Walter did not speak, he could see something within the other vampire shatter., Walter's armored form lunged upon him with the ferocity of a viper, and a roar escaped his throat whilst his lips parted back, exposing the needle-like points of his gleaming incisors. "_Then die_!" The red-haired demon drew his arm back, preparing to strike the injured youth down, whilst his fingers sought to snatch him round the neck, and crush him within their vice-like grip.

The severity of Joachim's injuries hindered made him unable to avoid the attack. A cry escaped his lips when he attempted to fly backwards, and felt something _push_ him instead. In the seconds that passed, he remembered seeing her appear – her eyes wide and fearful as the demon plunged upon her. Yet, she stood her ground, the delicate folds of her dress sweeping around her as she threw herself into death's embrace. With a single sharp blow, Walter struck her down with the swiftness of a hunter felling a doe. Raindrops of blood spattered the dark marble floor poppy red.

Joachim watched her fall. He felt every breath being crushed out of his lungs. He dove and caught her in his arms, but all he received was a limp form. "Sara!" His voice choked in his throat, and he fought to restrain his tears. He lifted her off the floor and pressed her against his chest, listening to her voice whispering faintly. She breathed deeply, her eyes opening and closing as if they had become a heavy burden to bear. "Joachim, I am sorry…" Sara eyes traced his despair. She was so weak she could not move; however, tears began to flood down her face. The vampire trembled, his eyes blurring with hot burning tears. A part of him died then, and the most profound feeling of loss etched itself across his fine visage, warping his face into the very image of pain and grief.

Joachim clutched her close but could not be distracted enough to be startled when an icily familiar voice filled his ears. "Perhaps death is a gift. I did not expect her to survive." His ears stung as Walter's voice filled the air, drawing his eyes upward to where the vampire lord loomed only a few feet away. A dim glitter reflected in his radiant crimson optics, as the sound from his boots echoed over the floor. "What a pathetic sight! An arrogant young lord, fallen to his knees upon the floor, and lamenting her before she has even begun to die."

Joachim cast his eyes away, appearing to have ignored the words, or not have heard them at all. He gazed down upon Sara's soft face, gasping to find her eyes had closed and she lay still in his embrace. "Sara?" his voice managed to speak her name, but although she was still alive, he sensed death's presence near.

Walter's frame was so close that if he looked from the corner of one eye, he could see the vampire's armored boots inches from his writhing body. Tears rolled down his cheeks, but as his heart wrenched sobs consumed the silent atmosphere, Walter merely stood staring at him with indifference.

His steel-like eyes locked with Joachim's pooling optics, before trailing to the young woman in his arms. "The lady was doomed regardless, however she is not dead yet, to be precise. _If you want to have her forever, I will see that your wish is granted!_"

His eyes caught sight of the ebony stone kept strung around Walter's neck, and without another thought to counter his attempt, for there was nothing left for him to lose, he sent two of his swords directly at the vampire's armored chest. His eyes widened when Walter's hand shot up, and halted the swords in mid air. His mind had finally lost all focus on his weapons, so that Walter had not trouble taking control of them and countering his attack. With the swiftness of a viper, Walter threw him into the air and sent him flying across the floor until his back smashed against the wall. A vengeful cry managed to wield through Joachim's bloodied lips as Walter held up a hand and kept him pinned against the stone. Pain filled every fiber of Joachim's body when the tips of the blades punctured through each of his hands and wedged themselves into the stone, so that the only thing supporting him above the floor was the force of the steel blades embedded into the wall.

Joachim struggled against the force of his own swords, which he could not maneuver to free himself from the excruciating pain. His eyes looked where Sara's unconscious body lay at Walter's feet, and the physical pain was replaced by his thoughts of her, which consumed him to the point he felt numb to the harsh throbbing from his bloodied hands. A wicked smile spread across Walter's smooth lips, whilst he grasped the woman's neck and tilted her head to expose a bloody artery partially concealed beneath her collar. Sara's eyes remained lightly closed; her face almost peaceful, as coils of thick chocolate brown locks brushed against her smooth cheeks. The red-haired lord glanced down at her for a moment, before staring purposely at the defiant youth's stricken face.

Water's deep voice filled with indignation. As he spoke, the contempt within his blazing red optics intensified. "If Leon arrives at my tower alive, she will be his worthy prize, as well as your worthy punishment."

The youth watched her fall limp in the demon's arms, the coils of her long, dark brown hair tumbling around her paling face. Blood streamed from her wounded neck and chest, staining the beautiful blue fabric of her vest crimson. A reflective red pool slowly appeared over the room's black marble floor and slinked around the soles of Walter's armored boots. The red-haired lord clutched the young woman against his chest, his eyes blazing a luminous shade of red while Sara's stolen blood gushed down his throat. Like a lover, Walter cradled her in his arms, unwilling to relinquish his hold until he had taken his fill. Joachim saw the demon's eyes flit to look at him for a moment, deliberately cursing him as he remained trapped against the wall by his own swords. With a desperate cry, his mind attempted to focus upon the weapons, commanding them to move so that he could save her from the demon's curse. Torrents of pain reaped through his mangled body but he had numbed himself to it, for his only thought and purpose was to snatch her away from Walter's cruel embrace.

Endless curses fled his lips as he snarled and thrashed against the swords for freedom, feeling the flesh of his hands and feet tear as his mind struggled to regain control over them. But he knew it was too late when he saw Walter withdraw his fangs, his eyes glowing and ashen face painted with her blood. Joachim's lips trembled, and his voice fell eerily quiet. "You will die, for what you have done!"

"Tis' wishful thinking." Walter's lips curled into a sardonic grin. Blood trickled from the corners of his mouth, whilst his crimson hair cascaded around his ashen face, its silky coils falling haphazardly across his broad shoulders. A chuckle reverberated within his throat as he swept his cape around the woman's limp form, eyeing the enraged creature with growing repugnance. Walter's ominous voice attempted to shatter the young man's resolve as though it were made of glass. "In truth, the lady will die, and you will suffer. You do not yet know the meaning of pain, though I will gladly ensure you do, soon enough!"

Joachim's eyes widened, and his bloodied lips parted, bearing his fangs. Rage pulsed through him like wildfire until his words were incoherent. He gnashed his teeth, his eyes gleaming with ferocity unknown to him until that moment. He could feel his swords slowly dislodging themselves from his flesh, and with a bitter snarl, shot endless curses upon the other vampire. "My only purpose, now, is to ensure that you _die_. I will not stop until I drive my swords through your damn heart, Walter!" All at once, Joachim Armster – the young nobleman – seemed to disappear into the dark confines of his memories. Rage filled his soul as a dark shadow crept across his visage. Like a wild beast, he snarled and thrashed to free himself, his thoughts focusing upon the swords with such desperation that, with one feral yank, the blades dislodged themselves from his hands.

Blood gushed from his wounds as he fell forward upon the floor, trembling and gasping, his wide eyes blazing with the fury of a thousand suns. "_You_…will…die!" Nearly blind with rage, he lifted his arm and pointed his index finger at the demon, his fangs gleaming in the torchlight like knives. Tears freed themselves from his eyes and trickled down his cheeks as his voice, once harsh and bold, shook with grief. "It is not too late, it can't be!"

"She is beyond salvation." Upon seeing the creature rise once again, Walter's armored frame abruptly stiffened. Without leaving his kneeling position, the red-haired lord shook his head, his eyes glinting with renewed amusement. His dark spheres tinted a shade of red, as though the glare he cast upon the youth alone could incinerate him instantly. "I will rule the night, whilst you are abandoned to the shadows. Time will erase your memory from my thoughts until your very existence is forgotten. As a vampire, you will live forever, and remember your defeat…as it should be." The vampire lord lifted a hand, fully prepared to deal a blow that would end the young man's challenge permanently. Walter's smooth lips curled into a smirk, whilst the pale vampire before him weakened under the influence of the lord's telekinetic strength. The sight of the young man struggling to stand heightened his amusement; and his dark eyes glinted. "If you beg for mercy, I may be lenient. Fall upon your knees, and declare that your body and soul are mine completely. You will always be inferior and cursed, for nothing – not even this human woman – will change your fate."

Joachim coughed up clots of blood, feeling the thick, red liquid stream from the corners of his lips and down his throat. Tattered and broken, his legs threatened to give way under the agony encompassing him. With a defiant huff, the creature's pale eyes glinted a shade of red, as his hoarse, enraged voice filled the room like a demon's roar. "_Damn you, Walter_!" He spat, waving his injured hand dismissively. His hand speckled the floor red like an artist flicking paint onto a canvas with a brush.

Walter's eyes narrowed. "You speak boldly, even though you are destined to fail. This wretched girl you sacrificed yourself for was insignificant, and it seems you do not know when to accept defeat. It is time that I demonstrated the profoundness of my disappointment-"

Before the vampire lord could lift a hand, a horrible, gurgling gasp suddenly escaped his lips. Sara held a dagger against Walter's jugular, and with one swift swipe, plunged it into his throat; bringing the metallic blade upward and across. Walter's great frame lurched forward as torrents of blood surged from the wound. Horrified gasps escaped his lips and one of his trembling hands clamped over the serrated gash. Blood gushed through his fingers and flowed down his arms and chest. Walter's dark eyes became wide and glassy. His grasp upon the woman released, and he crumpled sideways, landing against the marble floor with a resounding crash. Blood pooled around his armored form as he writhed and trembled from the unanticipated assault. His lips moved to speak, but his gurgled cries made his words incoherent.

Sara withdrew the dagger and rolled across the floor beside the demon, her chest rising and falling from the exertion. Joachim could barely believe what had just transpired. Her eyes met his, and her gaze made him fall motionless. Within her blue spheres existed a frail hope. An affectionate smile creased the corners of her lips, before her graceful lashes fluttered closed and she moved no more. "Sara!" Joachim screamed her name to no avail. Blood continued to swirl around where she and the demon lay. The youth hurtled toward the chaos, his wide eyes brimming with tears as he pulled her away from his lord's writhing form. As tenderly as he could, he lifted her into his arms and held her close. He tried to say her name again but his throat constricted, and words seemed meaningless – for she could neither hear him nor awaken. A vengeful cry erupted from his throat before he carried her with him into the black, starless night.

Desperation surged through him as he descended the tower's carpeted staircase, stumbling and nearly falling as he went. An icy wind whipped through his blood-soaked hair and made the tails of his long indigo robes flutter behind him. The wind violently struck his face like an invisible hand, though he continued onward, and refused to surrender to the night. Like a candlesnuffer extinguishing a flame, hovering black clouds slowly veiled the red moon's light and shrouded him in a dark abyss. Yet, as he descended into the castle, the clouds moved off and the light of the full moon shone upon him once again, its faint red light casting an outline of his thin shadow across the ground.

A trail of blood followed him as he dashed through the castle's pagoda. Faint streams of moonlight flooded through the windows and across his face as he passed them by, illuminating his broken body and the woman's bloody form, whose regal dress and neck was soaked in red. Even though his strength was waning, he tore through the castle with the fury of an escaping convict. The walls of the castle seemed to threaten to enclose and trap him, whilst his swords guardedly accompanied him as he went. He swept through the castle's entryway with the swiftness of a rabbit, his eyes and ears alert to every sound for fear that it belonged to his pursuer.

It was not long until the young nobleman rushed into the teleport room and stood in front of the mysterious, lone door he had visited earlier. There were no other options left and nowhere to run where Walter could not find him. Nothing within Eternal Night was beyond his lord's perceptiveness except, perhaps, whatever was locked within the deepest, darkest confines of the castle itself. He forced the door open and swept into the blood spattered chamber beyond. The sound of the monster scraping against the hollow walls below – its putrid stench, and rasping breath – was almost welcoming. He could see the fiend moving through the floor's metal grate and glimpsed at its ungodly construction of dead flesh and blood.

Without hesitating, he approached the room's unsealed blue door and swept beyond its dark threshold. A vast spiral staircase became visible beyond the doorframe, its steps leading into thick, cloaking darkness. With baited breath, he descended into the black abyss. His arms wrapped tighter around Sara while sobs wracked his chest. Locks of silky white hair tumbled about his paling face, whilst the specter death threatened to consume the remnants of Sara's flickering life. His steps echoed faintly across the steps as the tortured fiend's rasping breaths rumbled through the castle's ancient walls. A faint silvery mist drifted from the base of the staircase until the vampire could barely see what lay before him. He felt Walter's presence nearby – warning him that time's cruel pendulum was about to swing in the other vampire's favor.

Upon reaching a rusted, torch lit door at the bottom of the staircase, the corners of his lips slowly lifted into a smirk. His thoughts commanded the door to admit him into the room beyond.

Even his most vivid imagination could not fathom the sight of the demonic entity concealed within the forgotten prison. The creature was so massive that he could barely see its face when he looked up. It possessed a humanoid shape, though centuries of decay had made its flesh partially rot away, exposing its blood-entrenched muscle, spinal column, ribcage, and pulsating internal organs. He could only view the creature from the torso up, since its lower body was too large to see, and remained cloaked within the dark pit below the stone platform on which he stood. Massive spikes projected from the walls surrounding the atrocity, evidently, to contain it within the prison. Large, filthy white maggots fell out of the creature's organs and wriggled blindly on the platform. The creature's enormous hands fought against the chains entrapping them, its talon-like claws grinding against the steel shackles with excruciating fury. The stench of the monster's decomposing carcass made him gag, while the room shook under the force of its agonized, guttural roars. Every aspect of the monster repulsed and terrified him, yet he remained within the room, eager to assist – rather than destroy – his grotesque cohort. The monster's gleaming white eyes flashed within the dimly lit room, though none of its features was recognizably human. Two long, twisted black horns like that of a ram jutted from its head, matched only by two smaller flesh-like horns projecting outward on either side of its jaw. Rows of razor sharp incisors protruded from its massive gaping mouth, and the sound of its bestial roars made the room and ceiling tremble.

Centuries of rage had been building within the monster during its confinement until the pale vampire sought to grant its demand for liberation. With a quick nod, he sent the swords hurtling toward the chains binding the creature to its torment. The chains securing the monster's great hands were stronger than he expected, since after several blows, his blades still had great difficulty severing the links. His unblinking, steely eyes watched his swords incessantly strike the chains, until the steel gave way and tumbled into the abyss. Uncontrollable rage and power emanated from the demonic entity's colossal form, as its large hands claws against the walls of the room, fighting to pull its half-rotten corpse out of the prison condemning it for eternity. Massive, steel hooks through the creature's collarbone and shoulders kept it restrained, and the brutality of its imprisonment seemed to be a testament to its power.

He cradled Sara's limp body in his arms, speaking unintelligible sentiments of reassurance in her ear. His strength left him, and he collapsed against the wall beside the door, greedily watching the fiend's attempted ascent out of the prison. Blood stained his armored chest, face, hands, and robes as he absorbed the symbol of his victory. Joy filled his tortured soul when, as he expected, Walter's blood-covered form stumbled through the unsealed door. Streams of blood continued to flow from the open wound in his lord's throat, though the flesh was healing faster than he anticipated, and had already begun to regenerate. Walter's tall stature seemed small and insignificant compared to the monstrosity before them. Damp locks of bloodstained hair clung against Walter's cheeks, whilst he fell still – temporarily devoid of his senses, before instinct made him step quickly backward. The vampire lord's dark, glittering eyes widened, whilst his lips drew back to unveil the gleaming whites of his fangs.

Joachim could contain his enthusiasm no more, and broke into a fit of loud, boisterous laughter. His voice was poisonous with rage and hatred while he rasped sarcastically. "You're late, Walter. I have a surprise waiting for you!"

Walter spun around to look at him, his face a mask of fury as the sound of his deep voice, rose to an enraged roar. "_No_! _What have you done_!" Almost blinded by rage, the red-haired demon lunged forward and struck the laughing creature across the face.

Blood spurted from Joachim's mouth as a bright, searing pain throbbed in his face. He gave it no heed, and continued to laugh hysterically, whilst hissing through gritted teeth. "Why, it should be fairly obvious! I will finally obtain the pleasure of watching you _die_, Walter! The moment it tears your body to pieces, I will kick your remains into the abyss and mount your head over the throne as a trophy."

"Foolish wretch! Do you not realize what you have unleashed?" Walter's rage threatened to make him snap the frail creature in half. However, his waning strength made him hesitate. Alarm surged through the demon's starlit eyes as he looked upon the maniacal youth, his lips curling vehemently. "You will suffer under its wrath as well, for its power is unmanageable! If it escapes from this prison Eternal Night shall fall into ruin!"

"Perhaps, that will happen." Joachim sneered, and his laughter escalated. "But it is of no consequence, so long as you _die_! I am curious to see if your precious Ebony Stone will protect you this time! To me, you are more grotesque than this monster, and it should be you who is locked away for eternity. I will rule Eternal Night at last, while your corpse rots in this stinking pit!"

"Madness!" Walter snarled, his great frame whirling to look at the raging monster once again. His fine lips formed a deep scowl, as one of his hands clenched into a fist. With a huff, Walter swept his long, black cape around him and strode forward, the soles of his armored heels thumping against the platform. "I am not easily defeated." His rich voice carried above the demon's raging screams, whilst he approached the grotesque mass of demonic flesh. Despite his swiftness, Walter's stance was somewhat unsteady, and his hand flew to the wound in his throat to cover it. His dark, blazing eyes glared at the atrocity in growing detestation. "I suppose the challenge of containing it will be interesting. I do not fear death; death is but a dream for one who can never die. The Ebony Stone ensures my existence and unending reign over the night, despite your pathetic attempts to best me at my own game. You may have unleashed the Forgotten One, but you shall alwaysremember your defeat."

"Forgotten One? How could anyone forget about _that_?" The youth replied amidst fits of deranged laughter. He watched Walter look over his shoulder, and felt the sting of his lord's cold gaze upon him. With a shrug, he sneered under his breath, hoping that his red-haired adversary heard him. "Let's see if your actions are as grand as your speeches, Walter!"

With a thunderous roar, Walter's great frame flew into the air. The raging monster jerked its head forward, willing to devour the vampire lord with a single, well-aimed snap of its enormous jaws. The red-haired lord swept in front of the demon; narrowly avoiding the creature's thrashing hands during his ascent. A strange, black whirling cloud appeared at his fingertips, whilst a coy smile spread across his ashen lips. Walter waved his hand in front of him, creating three small, dark red spheres, which exploded into an array of fire. The colossal fiend's deafening roars made the entire room quake when pieces of blackened flesh burned away from its face. Without giving it time to recover, the vampire lord's great arm lifted and threw a twirling ball of whitish light at the side of the monster's face. A low, resounding chuckle vibrated through his throat when the leviathan's massive head thrashed in agony.

Joachim watched with baited breath, his eyes widening, whilst his blood-covered hands clutched the woman against his chest. He covered Sara with himself as rocks dislodged from the prison's eroding ceiling and tumbled against the platform, narrowly missing the vampire huddled beside the door. Rage bubbled inside his soul like wildfire the moment he glimpsed at his lord's smirking face. "Is this too easy for you Walter? Allow me to intervene!" The weapons obediently left their encirclement around him and careened toward the raging monster, slashing at its face and hands with deadly precision. Thunderous, infuriated bellows escaped the colossal demon's throat before it threw its head back, and unleashed a storm of molten fire from its gaping maw.

Walter's eyes flashed a tint of red as he attempted to dive out of the way. However, the blade of a large sword pierced through his armor-clad chest and sent him tumbling onto the platform below with a resounding crash. Blood spattered into the air as he attempted to get up, heaving, and gasping while the sword remained lodged within his chest. Blood clotted in his mouth as his piercing dark eyes lingered upon Joachim's grinning countenance, his voice lowering into a deep, bitter rasp. "You! You…you…" Pieces of armor fell off Walter's heaving frame as he stumbled onto his knees, and pressed his hands against the platform, his red hair curtaining his face and shoulders. Like broken wings, the demon's fire shredded his long, flowing cape into tatters. Rage filled his dark eyes as he lifted his head and clenched his hand into a fist.

Joachim commanded the sword to return to him, and watched it dislodge itself from his master's trembling body – its metallic blade soaked in blood. The young man's strength was leaving him, and he fell back against the wall. As he lay there, his steely eyes watched the demon's fist hover over overtop of Walter's bleeding figure, prepared to crush him like a mere pest. Walter rolled out of the way as the monster's heavy fist slammed against the platform with the force of a hundred thunderstorms. After barely avoiding its hammering assault, the red-haired demon managed to stagger to his feet. The monster's rage was reaching its peak, and its attacks were far more severe than its opponent's injured body could tolerate. It lifted its arm, swiped its massive fist, and knocked the red-haired vampire across the room with a single, harsh blow, like a child tossing away an unwanted toy. The force of the monster's assault sent Walter careening into one of the wall's obtruding spikes. Torrents of blood trickled down his waist and armored legs, casting a dull, crimson sheen as his great frame fell motionless.

Joachim nearly leapt to his feet when he cast a mocking glare upon his master's limp body hanging from the spike. He observed how his lord's head lolled and hung downward, his face shrouded by the glossy locks of thick, blood red hair. The youth's cold eyes absorbed the scene with growing excitement, whilst he whispered a remorseless lament.

"Tis' a shame I could not have killed you myself, Walter. It is destiny for all things to end…I suppose yours was sooner than expected. I might have grieved, but you are not worth my tears-"

His words were caged within his throat the moment his eyes caught a flicker of movement. Walter's left hand twitched, and a indignant groan reverberated through his throat as he turned his head and stared at the white-haired devil in the eye. Amidst the leviathan's deafening roars, he brushed his trembling hand across the luminous black stone adorning his neck. Low chuckles escaped Walter's lips as his once dark, glittering eyes slowly illuminated a shade of bright red. Joachim had seen Walter's eyes glow before, yet the sight of them glowing completely red made him hesitate. Apprehension overwhelmed the young nobleman's former calm. He watched his master's eyes glow like rubies, as the red-haired lord's rasping chuckles ascended into proud, menacing laughter.

An intense crimson glow encased his entire body as his arms transformed into massive bat-like wings folding around him. His smooth, pale face disappeared within a black shroud. Walter's armored boots melted into long feet adorned with talon-like claws. Two finely pointed ears formed on top of his head, as the coils of his thick red hair vanished. A horrific, guttural sound faintly resembling Walter's voice filled the room. "_You will not escape from this prison, demon, for you are bound to my will. You will obey me, or else face your own destruction…!_" Its glowing red eyes focused upon the enraged fiend, its ears pricking forward as its opaque form launched into the air. Joachim fell completely still, taken back by the fact that the venomous voice he heard, in fact, belonged to Walter Bernhard. Despite the shackled monstrosity's superior build, the creature's sleek black form emanated a sinister air. It resembled a massive bat, though the red glow surrounding its body revealed that an unearthly, demonic power surrounded it.

With god-like agility, the creature flew toward the raging monstrosity and hooked the claws on its wings and feet above the elbow of the demons' right arm. Fearsome, deep roars escaped the creature's throat as it opened its jaws, unveiling rows of needle sharp teeth, and plunged them into the demon's raw flesh. Joachim could scarcely breathe as he looked at the indistinguishable form that was once Walter. He wanted to scream but his voice was lost in the sound of the demon's anguished bellows and the dark creature's snarls and roars. Two powerful entities were locked in a battle for dominance, but only one would reign supreme. He watched the Forgotten One's left hand try to grab the creature in its fist; however, the hooks through its collarbone and arms restricted its movements. With unparalleled speed, the dark creature climbed around the demon's arm, its teeth relentlessly gnawing and slashing while rivers of blood streamed down the decomposing flesh. Horrific screams escaped the fiend's throat as it thrashed vainly against its iron restraints. With a feral snarl, the demon threw its head back and unleashed a burst of molten fire from its mouth to force the dark creature to release its hold.

The black devil leapt into the air, avoiding the fire with ease, and circled around the room. It barely flapped its wings to stay air borne and seemed to float instead of flying. The moment the massive fiend ceased its attack, the creature plunged to the wounded arm and hooked its claws into the flesh. Like Lucifer himself, its black form refused to bow to the monstrosity's power, and hatred burned within its radiant eyes. Thick, red blood continued to rain onto the platform as the demon's arm was drenched red with blood. After a few moments, a dull grinding sound reverberated through the room, alongside the monster's intensifying screams. The black devil succeeded in inflicting a deep gouge around the flesh of the demon's elbow, which exposed the raw bone formerly concealed underneath. Howls of rage and agony escaped the gargantuan demon's throat whilst its left hand continued to snatch at the dark creature in an attempt to pull it off, like a horse swatting away a fly. However, the black devil's viciousness was inexorable, despite the immensity of its opponent's strength. The creature tethered itself to the monster's arm like a parasite, its glowing eyes narrowing whilst blood spattered across its shadowy face. A dull, echoing snap reverberated through the room when its teeth effortlessly sawed through the bone of its opponent's arm. With a sickening crack, the bone snapped in half, whilst the tendons securing the arm gave way under the immensity of its weight. Amidst the Forgotten One's screams, the amputated arm plummeted into the dark abyss below, leaving behind a crude nub of severed bone, blood, and flesh.

The white-haired vampire's eyes became wide and glassy, and his mouth fell agape, as the horror of what he had just witnessed invaded his mind. He averted his eyes from the dark creature, clutching Sara against his chest, and was unable to move. The colossal demon's rage was building, and its remaining arm thrashed violently in the air until its heavy fist slammed against the platform. However, the demon's temper served to only blind it and make its desperate retaliations even less effective. The loss of blood it suffered slowed the bestial monster's movements, and its head began to loll to one side. Nevertheless, the dark devil was far from finished toying with its prisoner. After severing the arm, the creature released its hold and flew into the air in front of the demon's face, its leathery wings gleaming in the dimly lit space. A growl vibrated from the creature's throat as its wings folded around it, and a bright, bluish white light formed under its control. The brightness of the sphere prompted Joachim to shield Sara with himself, whilst he stared at the orb, his breath trapped within his lungs when the sound of Walter's deep, resonant voice shook the foundations of the room.

"Behold my stre_ngth! Now this is power!_"

The energy sphere's size began to increase rapidly, and when it became almost as large as the creature itself, the demon's wings unfurled and released it. A massive dome shaped wave of fire exploded across the room. Joachim released a fearful cry, his eyes blinded by the heat whilst he covered Sara with himself. He was fortunate that he was sitting near the door because he was just out of reach of the creature's assault. The inferno hit the Forgotten One, whose gigantic, shackled body took the full force of the attack. Loud, heaving breaths escaped the monster before its glowing white eyes closed and its giant head sank forward. The silence that followed was broken by the massive demon's shallow breaths. It drifted into an unconscious stupor, while blood trickled down its mangled face and sloshed onto the platform blow.

The shadow devil returned to the platform and landed upon it with a resounding thump. Joachim tensed when its glaring crimson eyes focused upon him intently. Then, without a word, its cloaking darkness slowly lifted into the familiar shape of Walter. The red-haired vampire stood in silence upon the platform. Walter's armored form was covered in blood and his pale skin glistened. One of his gauntlet-covered hands brushed aside a lock of hair. Walter's abyss-like eyes focused upon the wounded vampire slumped against the wall, drawing Joachim's gaze while his voice echoed through the eerily quiet space. "I am not finished with you yet, Joachim!" He hissed, his eyes shooting daggers at the pale youth, while both fury and revulsion swept across his elegant features. With a huff, the red-haired lord flicked his cape aside, and his heavy frame limped forward. The wounds in Walter's neck and waist continued to seep blood and left a smeared trail in his wake. Rage seethed within his starlit eyes as he continued darkly. "You should have known, not even the embodiment of humanity's hatred could defeat me! Your rebellious and traitorous nature deserves a punishment worthy of your betrayal! Now, I shall end this tiresome quarrel between us _for the last time_!"

"_No_!" Joachim screeched, his eyes blazing the moment Walter's hand grasped him by the collar of his robe and dragged him forward. He struggled to maintain his hold upon Sara, while attempting to break free from his master's crushing grip. In desperation, he summoned his swords, but Walter had expected him to attack. When he commanded the swords to kill his tormentor, the red-haired lord's telekinetic power broke his control over the blades. Unbearable, searing pain flooded through Joachim's entire body when the five swords betrayed him and slashed at his own chest, shoulders, and waist. Warm, thick blood flowed freely from the wounds as he collapsed into Walter's hold; his eyes burning and blood dripping from his gaping mouth. Yet, he continued to cling onto Sara's body until Walter sought to wrench him away. Blood filled tears dripped down his smooth cheeks as he gasped and wept, his voice like that of a captured rabbit's scream before death. "_I wanted to save her!"_

With a quick flick of his hand, Walter twisted the young man's wrist to such an odd degree that it snapped, and the bones shattered instantly. A strangled cry fled Joachim's lips as a blinding pain blurred his vision. He felt the other vampire pull him forward until their faces were merely inches apart. Joachim attempted to look Walter in the eye, but the searing agony tearing though him made it nearly impossible. A mocking smirk slowly appeared upon the red-haired vampire's lips.

Walter's rich voice haunted the youth's tortured mind. "Your nightmares are merely a prelude to your suffering! I shall grant your wish to rule; a Dark Palace worthy of you, in the deepest depths not even rats would find appealing! There, your worthless corpse may rot in a watery grave, where neither God's angels nor hell's demons will venture to comfort you, and your only companion will be your shadow cast upon a filthy floor. You will be a ruler as wretched as your domain, and I bid many nights of torment upon you, Joachim…"

"_You…can't…!_" Joachim hissed, his eyes widening as fear temporarily overpowered his will to fight. "_No! This isn't over…I will…kill you…_"

"Oh, but I can, Joachim." Walter whispered, his eyes tinting a shade of red as his lips brushed across his captive's blood-soaked cheek. "The powerful are destined to control the weak. Pitiably, Lady Trantoul will suffer…once her beloved knows she has been turned, he will undoubtedly choose to 'free' her from her fate. The lady's death will ensure Mathias' promise is fulfilled-"

With a vengeful roar, Joachim snatched the stone by its ornate gold necklace, and pushed Walter backward with all of his remaining strength. He desperately fought to free the stone from its master's neck; his eyes blazing as his lips drew back and unveiled his gnashing incisors. The force of his attack snapped the necklace and succeeded in taking his red-haired adversary by surprise. Joachim secured the dark, glittering object in his enclosed fist, and with a wild laugh, lifted his arm back to throw the accursed object into the abyss. More than anything, he wanted to watch its dark shape disappear from sight. Victory and freedom would soon be his-

Violent shockwaves made his throat erupt into a scream, whilst Walter's fist snatched his hand containing the stone, his vice-like grip shattering the bones like twigs. A vengeful roar vibrated within the vampire lord's throat as he pried the necklace out of his adversary's broken, bleeding fingers. The youth's steely blue eyes clashed against his tormentor's blazing red. Spots of agony blinded his vision when the back of his skull collided against the platform with a sickening, dull crack. Blood seeped across the youth's ivory hair, his battered, mangled body strewn across the red-haired demon's feet over the ground.

He stared up into Walter's blazing eyes, whilst the suffocating, thick tang of blood clotted in his throat. "_No!" _The blood made his voice almost incoherent, and its faintness was barely detectible. Hopeless desperation surged through him when the specter of defeat loomed over his mind. It was a miracle alone that he even survived his lord's assault. Overwhelmed by sorrow, he kicked against the platform with his legs, and pushed his mangled body toward the fallen woman. Tears slid down his blood-covered cheeks as he screamed in anguish and fury, his eyes blazing until he managed to cover her with himself, and encircled her blood-soaked body in his arms. His vision began to blur as Walter grasped him around the throat and lifted him up, until his feet dangled just above the platform. The cruelty of his master's rage broke him completely, and he did not struggle, except to rasp through bloodied lips. "_No! I would've won!_"

Walter gave the youth a look of cold indifference. Without hesitating, the red-haired vampire slammed the young nobleman against the wall beside the door. Joachim felt his spine crack under the impact, as bright, white spots of pain entered his vision. Walter aimed a kick at his side and snapped the bones of his ribcage with terrifying ease. Low, guttural snarls filled the red-haired vampire's throat.

"You _betrayed_ me!"

Spurts of bloodied saliva spilled down the young man's chin and throat, as the vampire lord's heavy hand struck him across the side of the face, and shattered the bones in his jaw like glass. Joachim could not open his mouth, and the swelling around his eyes nearly blinded him. When he could no longer move except to breathe, he felt Walter's hand grasp him by the hair and yank him forward. His limp body hung like a slaughtered lamb. His limbs were broken and his battered face made his features barely recognizable.

A chilling silence fell between them until, at last, the sound of his lord's voice sent tremors down his spine. "None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe that they will be free."

Loud, cruel laughter erupted from Walter's throat as he kicked the bloodied creature with his boot, relishing the agonized sounds of the youth's pain. Nevertheless, the demon's laughter was hollow and devoid of the satisfaction that should have come with victory. Two forms lay together, their souls slipping further and further away into darkness. Joachim remained unmoving in a tangled heap on the ground next to Sara, slowly drowning in his own blood. Blackness began to encompass his mind while he struggled to look up at his condemner, his eyes blazing with rage and despair. Walter's voice echoed through his thoughts, the last sound he remembered before his mind and vision gave way to terrible, cloaking darkness.

"I cannot look upon you and regret your existence. I could very well sentence you to death for your treachery, but you are of better use to me alive. Your vain and rebellious nature has wrought only ruin upon you, Joachim. I shall, therefore, consign you to darkness, where you will remain as nothing but a shadow of my power. It pleases me to imagine you forever tortured by the scourge of defeat; to never again partake in the splendors of the night and love. The Ebony Stone will always belong to its rightful master, and so will you. A great injury has been committed upon me that even eternity in darkness will not atone for it, Joachim.

Farewell…forever…"

Yet, Joachim was determined to ensure that keeping him alive was a mistake Walter would someday regret.


	33. Chapter 33: Water Prison

**Author's Note:** After a long time between updates, I'm finally back with another chapter! The story is nearing the end...there will probably be only four more chapters after this one. I hope you continue reading. Even though my updates are infrequent, I am determined to finish this story, so if you are waiting for more add it to your story alert list!

There is some M rated (sexual) content in this chapter. If you are wondering why, I based it off of one of Ayami Kojima's artworks of Joachim sitting on the floor in the water prison...

**Special Thanks:** Thank you **LateNiteSlacker** for editing this chapter; I added more to the areas you suggested so it hopefully flows a bit better. My thanks also go out to **yaoi-thundeh** for her lovely cover art and for supporting this story (reading every chapter of _Melancholia_ is quite an accomplishment, considering how long it is!) I was beginning to think no one was reading it anymore (T_T)

**Chapter XXXIII**

Joachim's eyes fluttered open, only to find himself enveloped in darkness and shadow. The room spun as he sat up on the floor, his neck searing with pain and his eyes blinking to adjust to the penetrating blackness. The floor was covered with rough stone and decorated by cracked square tiles in the center to form an intricate star-like image. Strange distorted shapes danced off the four rough walls enclosing the space. Although the floor was relatively wide, there was absolutely nothing within it. Three massive statues of men were engraved into three corners of the room, each wielding enormous stone swords positioned downward. The statues' unblinking eyes stared straight ahead - paying no attention to the pale creature lying in the middle of the room.

Many minutes passed before he regained his senses. Vampires were used to dwelling in darkness; however, the room in which he awoke was beyond the blackness of night and shadow. Even with his abilities as a vampire, he could not distinguish certain aspects of the room clearly, except for a heavy door alit by two torches on the opposite side. Joachim studied his surroundings carefully, his lungs stifled by the cold damp air. Other than the continuous rush of water beyond the door, he heard nothing except the whistle of the wind escaping through the cracks around the doorframe. A barely audible sob broke from his throat as he stumbled unsteadily to his feet. He closed his eyes and focused his distorted mind, increasing the purple aura around his body, which provided a dim light source to guide him around the room. With slow, weak steps, he managed to stagger toward the door. His hand clamped over the tender bite marks clashing against his sallow skin as a feeling of faintness robbed him of his strength.

He searched the stone door for a means of pushing it open. The vampire placed his hands upon its cold stone surface, frantically running his fingers across it for any sign of a hole or a crack that would be wide enough for him to grasp and use as leverage. Fear and rage pulsated through his frozen blue irises. Unwilling to relent, he took a step back and focused his mind upon the door itself. No matter how intense his psychic powers demanded the object to move, a powerful magic seal made his commands ineffective.

Joachim's eyes blinked and released the tears building within their glassy pools. He threw himself against the door and sat upon the barren floor in front of it. Whilst his eyes stared into the darkness, his body mechanically crawled forward. The youth's sharp fingernails ground into the rough stone tiles, until his hands touched coarse metal. His face tilted upward to look at two intricate iron gates browned by a coating of rust. When he looked beyond the gates, the center between them revealed a flight of five crumbling steps leading to an enormous cross embedded against the wall. With the last of his strength, he crawled up the steps and huddled at the base of the cross. The cross was so large it spanned the entire height of the room. The cross, like the unfortunate nobleman, was abandoned and decaying.

_Surely Walter did not intend to leave me here. Even though I defied him, his feelings for me are much stronger than that. Walter will come for me, soon enough. _

His nostrils wrinkled from the stench of soiled earth and rotting odors consuming the air he breathed. Like a frightened child, he huddled nearer to the cross, and rested his head against the grimy wall behind him. The words echoing through his mind met the icy glint of rage in his unblinking eyes.

_Before this I had never harmed a single soul, or brought anyone unjustified death and hatred. I never tasted blood and witnessed the dead dwelling in the realm of the living. I was a lord, ruling a manor in my father's name, without need for any of this torture. _

A chill ran down his spine, but he found his mind numb to crying, for the springs inside his eyes had become as barren as his makeshift prison cell. Joachim shrank back, his body unmoving with the exception of an occasional despondent twitch.

_Walter will come. Perhaps, this prison is a warning, a reminder that I serve only him. He could not leave me down here. Loneliness will consume him like a plague. _

His head lowered into his open hands, his fingers covering his swollen red eyes. The room's dampness seemed to overtake his need to cry, and the longer he sought to stay unmoving, the more clearly he heard the faint sound of a cascading waterfall. For the moment it relieved him, however, he knew in time he would begin to despise it.

_Sara's damnation is no fault of her own, and I must take the blame for it all. Sadly, the hour for redemption has long passed, for there is no one here to absolve me. No one…_

A burning sensation coursed through his body, one of a will to engulf his foul cell in fire. The youth exhaled a deep sigh, and glanced upward at the cross. He shuddered in the darkness when a cold draft of air blew against his cheek. Ripples of straight, ivory hair brushed against his face, as he lifted his head and stared into the gloomy abyss surrounding him. When his eyes were not scanning the filthy dirt walls, they drifted longingly to the sealed door.

_Perhaps, my master has little interest in Sara, after all. She is merely another pawn in his game, like her betrothed and every other man and woman driven to their deaths for the sake of love. By now he must be sitting upon his throne like an overstuffed cat, playing his game whilst I remain locked away in this disgusting pit! The one opportunity I had to defeat him was for naught. Once his yearning returns, I will have hardly spent a week in here and he will appear, as he always does, to claim me. _

His eyes stung, and his fingers touched the rotting wood, while he listened to the lonely silence engulfing the room, which was broken by the sounds of his sharp fingernails clawing at the wooden base of the cross, until he slammed his hands against it. A red tint flashed through his eyes, meeting the dull glisten of his bared fangs. "Where are you God? Why do you let such things happen to me? Sara was always so faithful to you, and yet you failed to protect her from a heathen vampire's bite! It is no wonder Mathias could not stand you, you allow all your children to suffer, and you never answer my pleas!"

The young vampire threw himself away from the cross and crawled toward the center of the room. In the darkness, he felt his hand touch something smooth and sharp, and pulled away to find he encountered one of his swords wedged into the stone floor. Almost the entire length of the huge blade was embedded at a slightly tilted degree. He realized that all of the swords left with him formed a circle around the star-shaped pattern on the floor. As if he had not seen them, he retreated to the back of the room and laid his slender frame down on the floor in front of the steps. It eluded him as to why Walter allowed him to keep his swords, but after a few moments, he smirked sourly.

_So…he knows these swords are useless to me in here, unless it amuses him that I would be subject to this cruel means of survival. I have been made to act as a gladiator, with this unpleasantly cold room as my coliseum. If it so happens that I die, Walter would not bat an eyelid in remorse. There would be no one to lament my passing._

How long had he been unconscious? Time seemed to stand still, as though the shadows lurking along the walls sought to erase his memory of it. What was transpiring in the world beyond his prison? Briefly, he wondered on Walter, Mathias, and the knight destined to discover his ill-fated betrothed. The hands of time itself seemed as rusted and motionless as the iron bars before him; caging him within the ambiguity of its existence, while professing nothing. The absence of time in the prison taunted his mind, for he wished to sense the sunrise beyond the forested night, to look upon the crimson moon floating in the sky, and to witness the world age around him whilst he remained ever youthful. Hours, days, or even weeks could have passed before he awoke, and he would not know. The mere idea of _not knowing _time stained the fabric of his conscience; cruelly reinforcing his unwilling condemnation to oblivion.

An anguished sob escaped his throat and filled the small enclosure, heightening when he heard his mournful voice return to him. If he was human he would have fallen ill and would have died. As a vampire, the dampness only irritated him. Several times he shifted in the darkness, knowing there was nothing that could disturb him, but he remained irritable and restless, without the comfort of sleeping to discourage his thirst. Eventually, he slid the sleeve of his robe up his arm to his elbow. The pale flesh glistened in the room's dampness, while his eyes fixed themselves on a blood vein running through the base of his wrist. At first, he attempted to look away and ignore the terrible urge. He bared his fangs as a hiss wound its way through his gritted enamels. He felt his breaths quicken, as his eyes widened and glittered a radiant shade of red, until the last ounce of his control was lost and he buried his fangs into the blood vein. A disgusted groan vibrated through his vocal chords when his fangs pierced his own flesh, the warm liquid flooding down his throat.

After a long while of gorging himself, he released his fangs and stared into the darkness. A wave of lightheadedness overcame him as his panting began to lessen, and without warning, he fell back against the stone where the dark depths of the room numbed his vision into complete blackness.

* * *

Joachim awoke in a haze, his eyes widening to adjust to the darkness as he struggled to sit up. His chest heaved, while his eyes glanced fiercely about the room. Not to his surprise, he awoke in the same bare and grungy room as before, and all at once his worst nightmares returned. A fury of rage seemed to split his entire soul in half. He darted to his feet and began to pace about the room. Feral growls parted through his gritted fangs, and his lips seemed to curl whenever his eyes glanced at the sealed door. The youth's hands clenched into fists, and regardless of feeling his sharp nails pierce through his palms, the sounds of his boots thumping over the floor quickened.

His mouth felt dry and his lips were cracked, yet he paid no attention to it as he erratically paced across his prison. The labored sounds of his breaths heaving and gasping intensified, and with them, his eyes tinted a devilish shade of red that fought against the enveloping darkness. The room's hollow atmosphere made his mind whirl as if he were trapped in an acoustic cats-cradle, where every sound he made mercilessly reverberated back. He felt his fangs sear so painfully that he gasped, overturned his hands, and gazed at the gleaming blood covering his palms. His cold, sunken eyes watched the fluid trickle around his fingers and drip onto the floor.

In dire frenzy, he placed the palm of one hand against his lips and licked the blood clean, though his tongue repulsed the taste with a need to heave it out of his mouth. Low snorts puffed from his flared nostrils, his eyes still glancing at the door and then ahead at dirt-covered walls that blocked him at every turn. Eventually, he could not recall how long he had been repeating the same movements, or how many times he crossed the floor, but the constant jolts of pain from his thirsting fangs refused to allow him peace. Joachim's eyes were plastered open as if a giant hand pulled his lids back.

The creature let out a hoarse scream and charged toward a wall. The soft, crumbly dirt slipped between his fingers as he clawed relentlessly, unaware of the fact his mouth had begun to foam. Torrents of screams erupted from his throat while his fists pounded and clawed, unable and unwilling to cease. Beneath the slimy wet dirt, his fists smashed against solid rock, which he could neither break nor damage. His screams of rage twisted into howls of sorrow, until he collapsed onto the floor. The contorting shudders of his deteriorating frame increased while his voice howled. "Release me from this place!" he felt his fangs sear again, causing his breaths to pant when his eyes searched the room for a single drop of delectable red blood.

Joachim attempted to bite down upon his own tongue to stifle his screams, yet he could not withhold the sorrow consuming him. He arched his back above the floor when a roar erupted from within his throat with such ferocity its unearthly sound shook the room and caused pieces of stone to crumble off the walls. The crystal glint of his pale blue eyes warped into a vivid tint of bright crimson, and his mouth remained agape to expose the gleaming whites of his fangs. Panting heavily, he turned onto his side and glared into the oppressing darkness. A grimace wielded across his lips. "No…this…can't be…I can't be left here…but…" his hollowed voice echoed off the walls, whilst the searing agony from his demanding fangs fought against his whirling mind. He sat up, rose to his feet, and stood with no less stillness than one of the room's statues.

His thoughts lingered upon the only decoration in the room, which was the cross on the farthest wall behind the rusted gates. With a low hiss, he folded his arms across his chest, and held his head high upon allowing his lips to curl upward into a smirk. "So, this cross is the symbol of sacrifice and salvation. A rotting piece of wood. What of the mighty God then reigning above in heaven? Doth he take me for a fool to have believed he would free me from this place? Yet here I remain, knowing heaven's gates would be more confining than this unholy sanctum." He shook his head and proceeded to walk throughout the room, his slender frame sweeping with such silent grace the only sounds to linger were the dull motions from the trailing fabric of his robe. The silver lining his armor shimmered in the dim light, but such beauty was rivaled by the glittering red flicker emanating from his dilated pupils.

After he made a quick few rounds about the room, he suddenly halted before the alter and glared at the cross looming against the stark wall. Despite his heated motions, the smirk placed almost unnaturally across his lips refused to fade, while he paced in front of it with his head held high like a vain peacock whose own nauseating splendor suffocated the dreary air. The sound of his haughty defiance was quick to be spoken from the depths of his mind, and he resolved not to allow the silence to overcome him. An audacious chuckle reverberated through his throat, and he cocked his head to one side to curiously watch shadows dancing across the walls.

_Ah, Walter, oh how you mock me so! You demand my absolute submission! I would raher be trapped down here than allow you to change me into your hapless marionette! I have cut the strings you once controlled._

A snort passed from his flared nostrils, and his smirk faded into a severe frown. Without warning his boot kicked the rusting gate and he raged against the oppressing silence. I will not easily be cast into darkness.

_Indeed, if I must, I will wait down here for you...and if mere humans are sacrificed in order that I remain alive to achieve my desire, it is a small price to pay for obtaining the Ebony Stone...and your accursed head!_

Rapturous laughs rang through the room and echoed off the walls. His chest shook from the unnatural sounds as he threw his head back and grinned at the black ceiling above where no stars welcomed his dismal state.

It soon dawned on him that he was beginning to regularly pace across the floor, and he was hardly surprised to find his boots yet again thumping rapidly to his erratic engagements, while the tails of his robes fanned behind him like clipped wings unable to take to the skies.

_I have claimed so many lives, what will a few more matter if I am damned to live in this place? After all, humans are worthless creatures. If they are foolish enough to venture all the way into this chasm of hell, I may as well be merciful and grant them a swift death. _

His eyes gazed down upon his wounded left wrist that still bore fang markings from his recent feasting. Joachim glanced away from the pressing wound, to the thin line of his shadow etched across the floor like an artist's unfinished rendering. The very image made him revert his gaze to his swollen wrist. His lips curled at the sight of the broken flesh – pale and forever lifeless flesh. It reminded him of what he was, and despite its detestable meaning, his dead gaze revealed no inhibition from it. The only thing he felt was the mind-splitting agony coursing through him at the will of his thirsting fangs, and not a moment later it brought him down to his knees upon the floor.

A loud howl of anguish fled from his cracked lips, and not even in half a second he was upon his feet again and running toward the wall. Without thinking, his hands lunged at the wall's damp surface clawed at it madly until his fingernails snapped under the pressure. Even though his nails were reduced to jagged stubs, the vampire continued to slash at the wall until the rough surface left his fingers raw and a bloody stain streaked across the grimy surface.

"Goddamn you Walter!" his voice screamed so loudly his chest shook. "The ebony stone was rightfully_mine_…it was supposed to belong to _me_! My life was supposed to be _my__own_!"

After a few minutes, his bleeding fingers felt numb, and the bitter thirst in his mouth drove him to clench them into fists and beat them against the wall. The scent of his blood suffocated the air while his eyes watched the red droplets spatter against the stone. The sounds of his screams died away, but the feeling of utter fury remained as prevalent in him as before. He turned his back against the wall and faced the swords embedded into the floor. A dim glow flickered within his optics almost as radiantly as the reflection of the cold steel he looked fervently upon. "Come to your master, my beautiful blades…" He managed to pry open one of his throbbing fists long enough to beckon one of the swords out of the floor with his hand. Nevertheless, he could not gather his psychic powers long enough to command the sword to move, and when the blade remained his face became a twisted mask of enragement.

Still the sword did not move. Seeing that his efforts were for naught, the vampire bared his fangs. _All __I __ever __wanted__…__was __to __live __a __normal __life. __But __he __stole __that __from __me, __and __only __I __can __steal __my __own __life __if __I __so __wish __to!_ Joachim watched the blade with a flaming glare, however the sword was unmoving – unable to be aware of his twisted thoughts desiring the cold metallic surface of the blade to be impaled through his heart. His aching throat vibrated in protest to his horrific screams while his hands pressed themselves over his face and scraped against the pallid flesh. He fell to the floor and scrambled his way toward the sword, his movements barely that of a human being. There was no dignity in his expression – only desperation, the oblivious kind of desperation that made him blind to his own madness.

He barely realized he was touching the sword until his hands wrapped around the metal blade so tightly it became stained by blood. Even though he cut his own hands, he slid them up the razor-sharp edge until he came in contact with the weapon's hilt. For so long he relied on his powers to lift his swords, and pulling such a massive blade out of the earth would be a task requiring immense psychological control. It was a very distant thought in his mind.

_Walter wants me to live this way. Locked in eternal darkness. Little does he know I have other plans...and whether those humans like it or not, they are going to help me survive to carry them out. _

A single tear trickled down his cheek. Joachim tried to gather his strength and rip the blade from the ground, ready to drive it through his heart and spatter the rest of the room with his blood, and as if turned to stone, he stopped and gazed into the empty abyss. From somewhere within his memory, a sweet voice made him fall deathly silent.

_Please promise me no matter what happens…you will live. _

Sadly, he felt consumed by disappointment when he did not see Sara's graceful figure appear within the darkness. All around him there was nothing but blackness, loneliness…and emptiness.

_You may not believe in yourself, but at least know I believe in who you are – someone with the heart of a human, and the grace of a nobleman. A beautiful and proud man._

His hands slipped away from the handle of the sword and fell to his side. He longed to feel her warm arms embrace him, or have her angelic wings carry him out of solitude and into the graces of heaven. As long as he was kept in such a place, he would never know happiness again. "Oh Sara…" his breaths were so shallow they gave the illusion of being on the threshold of death. "I hate this world of darkness, but perhaps not as much as I hate myself for being what I am. Forgive me then, for when your betrothed Leon comes…the only thing left for me to feel is the pleasure of killing him and drinking his blood. Oh, how I look forward to it!"

He got up off the floor and returned to the sealed door. With a roar, he beat against the stone surface with his fists until they were numbed by pain. "No!" Tears streamed down his face as he pushed himself against the door, as if his frail, pale form could knock it down with the force of his will. Like an animal trapped in a cage, his fingernails dug into the stone surface between the door and wall, attempting to pry it open and leaving scratch marks upon the stone. "No, this can't be!" His fangs flashed like knives in the darkness as his fingernails fought to pry the door open. A throbbing pain shot through him when he felt the hard nails give way and break under the force of his clawing hands. The lack of blood was making him weak. The room began to spin around him but in his pain, he would not relent. The youth began to beat his fists against the unmovable door, smashing his hands against it until he felt one of his wrists fracture from the impact. With a loud wail, he sank to his knees on the floor, breaking into a fit of anguished sobs.

"Please, don't leave me here!" His voice reverberated through the enclosing space, mercilessly bouncing back against him as he fought to remain conscious. "Don't leave me…don't leave me…alone." More than anything in the world, he feared the lonely, damp, darkness in which he dwelled. Strange shadows danced all around him across the walls like evil specters, watching and waiting to claim his soul. Fear began to build inside his pale, glassy eyes. "Sara…" He called her name, hoping she could hear him, wherever she was. But her fate was no different than his own. She was as damned as he was…forever ruined by the curse and lost to him. No one could save either of them, now. He was abandoned and left for dead in the cold confines of the earth. The realization stung him worse than a thousand arrows through his wretched heart. Joachim's chest wracked with uncontrollable sobs. "No! I can't be forgotten in this place! W-Walter will come back…surely…in a few hours…."

_And when he does, I will tear his heart out and cut his head off! For what he did to Sara…to Catherine…he will die. The bastard will die, even if I have to die with him! _

_Why did you try to save me, Sara? _

He did not want to imagine her fate; they would never see each other again. He pictured her smiling face in his mind, her azure blue eyes looking at him kindly, never seeing him as he saw himself. In spite of all the horrible things he did, she did not judge him. When he spited her, she tried to see the goodness in him. Humanity had been his once more, and then mercilessly stolen away. Everything was lost without her. Eternity, once enticing, was pure torture upon his soul.

If there was a reason for him to live, it was a very simple one. A smirk creased the corners of his blood-stained lips as he sat up, wiping the tears from his eyes and staring into the dark, shadowy nothingness of his prison. Faintly, he listened to the rushing noise of water cascading beyond the door. Droplets of condensation slid down the room's grimy walls and dripped onto the floor. The steady, dripping sounds seemed loud and offensive in his ears, for it would never cease. The water reminded him that a world still existed beyond his prison.

The young nobleman's face was so pale it resembled snow. Thoughts raged against his mind. There were so many he could not decipher the beginning of one thought from the end of another. His eyes repeatedly scanned the room as he rose to his feet and walked toward the furthest wall. A scurrying sound…an indication of life. Without thinking, he looked at the rodent attempting to conceal itself behind the wrought iron gates and snatched it in his fist. His pale eyes narrowed and looked at it in disgust, hearing the sounds of its pitiful squeaks as it struggled against him.

With a sigh, he held the thing by its bare, long tail and dangled it in front of his face. The creature's beady black eyes focused upon him derisively, whilst its brown body flailed in vain for freedom. Its tiny little legs continued to kick and scratch only to no avail. Like a cat, he swung the creature in front of his face, wrinkling his nose from the smell of its matted, wet fur. _A young nobleman...drinking the blood of vermin... _But he was fortunate he had found anything at all. If he drank from himself again, he was uncertain if he would survive. Bitter hatred consumed him as he grasped the rodent by the head and bit into its neck, puncturing his fangs through its fur until a reward of warm blood oozed down his throat. The youth's eyes widened when he almost gagged. _Disgusting! Not even the lowliest demon would want this!_ After draining the rat of its fluids, he tossed the tiny corpse across the room.

_I can't die… as long as Walter lives… I have to stay alive…long enough to kill him. I will destroy you, Walter! Nothing in this world will stop me until we meet again. Not even the Ebony Stone will protect you from me!_

A long silence passed. He sat down upon the room's filthy steps and cupped his chin in his hand; resting his elbow upon his knee. Almost statue-like, the pale demon fell still, whilst the vermin's blood revived his senses. Time seemed to crawl by like an infant. Somehow, the sordid room made him feel old and decrepit. He could no longer even remember his age, or much about his former life – his thoughts seemed empty; like a well without water. He ran a hand through the locks of his hair, feeling the damp white strands cling to his fingertips. Tiny droplets of water slid down the room's walls and ceiling. Occasionally, his ears detected the faint sound of water dripping onto his rusting armor. Time did not exist in the water prison; only shadows, which seemed to absorb it within their obscure shapes. The creature did not move, except to hum a strange tune within his throat, his pale eyes focusing on the door in anticipation of a visitor. He tried to count the minutes, but lost track quickly, and resumed humming to himself like a bored child.

Surely, Walter would come soon. When the vampire lord did, he would be ready…

* * *

A rush of cold air blew across his face when the stone door suddenly opened. Footsteps resounded through the small room as his eyes darted toward the door, his thoughts ready to summon his swords and attack. Without seeing who it was, his calm, deathly quiet voice rang through the entrapping darkness. The wind whistled through the open door and into the room, filling it with the repugnant scent of water, mould, and dust. "Walter…" The serration in his voice resembled an angry cobra preparing to strike. Without thinking, he stumbled to his feet and turned to face his oppressor. The one who had damned him to suffer for eternity. Yet, his eyes widened upon realizing that the person standing beyond the threshold of the door was not his lord…but a human. "What?" he snapped, not caring if the stranger heard him. With a huff, he brushed aside strands of his damp, ivory hair whilst his pale white skin gleamed, giving him a ghost-like image. "I was expecting someone else. Too bad…"

"Why on earth are you in a place like this?" The stranger stepped forward, searching through the darkness for the source of the malicious voice. It was a human man, perhaps in his late twenties. Though he was dressed like a knight, Joachim could tell by his nervous stance that he was not. A sword was clutched in the human's fist. Waves of short, light brown curls peeked beneath the heavy iron helmet adorning his head. The stranger wore chain mail and chest armor that was dented and rusted. It was as if the man had haphazardly put the outfit together out of scraps before he arrived. The pale devil detected a faint odor of blood and noticed that the man's right shoulder was slashed open and bleeding. Though somewhat older than himself, his unexpected visitor possessed prominent cheekbones and sharp, watchful brown eyes.

He observed the human's grip upon his sword tighten when his bold, confident voice inquired further. "I am looking for the monster that dwells in these waterways. Tell me where it is, and I will release you from your imprisonment."

"Monster?" It took a moment for Joachim to register the man's implication. For a moment, he stared blankly at the human, his eyes narrowing. A tiny smirk appeared across his lips as he stepped forward, the ironclad soles of his boots echoing eerily through the prison. "I'm afraid I was not expecting a visitor. Allow me to introduce myself..."

With a ferocious roar, he lifted his hands and commanded his swords into action._ Rise up! It seems we have a guest to entertain!_

The swords obeyed him instantly. Within seconds, the five weapons broke away from the earth and flew toward their master, their dim, greenish light casting a chilling glow across the youth's ashen visage. Joachim paused to let the human respond, using their petty conversation to give him time for gathering his powers. It took great effort for him to concentrate his thoughts. In his current state, his lack of blood made him desperate. At all costs he had to defeat the human. His superior speed and strength gave him an instant advantage over his prey. Nevertheless, despair consumed every fiber of his being the longer he looked at the human, standing there, the man's eyes hating him for being what he was. The undead – a vampire, hated by the world and cast into darkness.

_Fool! I am going to tear you to shreds! A little practice killing is a good warm up for defeating Walter. A nuisance like you will be fun to use as means of passing the time!_

"If a fight is what you want, I am more than happy to give you one, demon!" The man swung his sword warningly, his brown eyes blazing whilst he continued. "Nothing will stop me from reuniting with Delmira! I will defeat you and the master of this castle, once and for all!"

"_Delmira_?" The creature's eyes widened in surprise as he drew back, giving the man a skeptical look. "Who are you?"

"My name is Bartholomew – and that's all _you_ need to know. I seek Lord Bernhard."

The smirk upon the pale creature's lips broadened.

_So…it seems Walter wishes to play two games at once. No doubt, he wants to test me…and use me to bring down that wretched Belmont. If I fail…no. I will not fail. This human, Belmont or not, will die. All humans who come here will die._

"Suit yourself," he shrugged, whilst the power inside him continued to build until it formed into three, glowing blue spheres. With a wave of his hand, he scattered each of them in front of the room's massive sword-wielding statues whilst a shadow appeared across his face. "I enjoy torturing my victims first; I hope you don't mind. You will be dead soon enough, anyway." He glanced at the glowing blue spheres he had sent to three corners of the room. Somehow, their indigo light seemed both peculiar and sad in the enclosed space. Like a dark, powerful angel, he was prepared to inflict unimaginable torture upon his opponent.

"I have been through hell already!" The human spat, deliberately ignoring the red glow that flashed through Joachim's unblinking eyes. Truly, the man had never faced a vampire before. Joachim could tell by looking at him that he had no idea what he was about to endure. It pleased the pale devil to the point that he burst into a fit of loud, audacious laughter and tossed his head.

_Fool! Are you serious? You do not know the meaning of hell until you have lived in it as long as I! I will enjoy this little spar. If I don't kill you instantly, perhaps I shall let you keep me company a while longer..._

The sound rang through the room amidst his opponent's enraged shouts. "You are the one who is going to die! I would do anything for her!"

For a moment, Joachim's laughter died into silence. "Anything?" In the water prison, he could not distinguish night from day or the passing of time. It was as if time had reached a standstill. Images flooded through his memory, which he realized, was eroding away.

The vampire shook his head and held it high, returning the human's determination with a disdainful grimace. "There was a time when I said the same thing," A flood of sorrow appeared within his eyes, though it was defeated by the cruel, reprimanding sneer upon his face. One of his hands clenched into a tight fist. The creature's broken, filthy nails dug into his wounded palms whilst his voice lowered to a dull whisper. "You will fail, as I did. Though my beloveds are engrained within my memory… I will never see them again. Long ago…they loved me… _loved __me_…_and __died __for __me_…"

His voice nearly choked. Nearly trembling, he felt his eyes blur with tears but held them back. Icy blue spheres gazed at the human, filled with terrible loathing and despair. Like a trapped animal, he had no choice but to fight for his life. He would fight to the death, even if he lost himself, waiting for the day when the red-haired demon returned. There would be no forgiveness and no redemption for his tormentor, murderer, and defiler. The creature raised his hand as the encircling blades continued to whirl rapidly around him, impatiently waiting to attack their next victim.

With a proud snarl, his voice reverberated through the tiny room. "Walter belongs to _me_. I cannot allow you to interfere with my right to defeat him. Since you said you would do anything, soon, you will join her in death…after I play with you for a while, first."

"Delmira is alive! Not even your pathetic trickery will make me believe otherwise!"

"Believe what you want. It will not save you…and it did not save me."

Joachim's lower lip curled as he focused his thoughts upon the man. He watched the would-be knight adjust his helmet before charging forth and lifting his sword to strike. With a smirk, the pale creature allowed his feet to lift off the room's grimy floor and levitate. The barrier he had formed with his powers was complete, at last. The human's chances of defeating him were slim to none. Nevertheless, he was willing to play along and give him a fight, if only to keep himself from succumbing to the empty solitude of the water prison. The human attempted to slash the metallic edge of his sword across his neck, his brown eyes surging with rage and contempt whilst he swung the weapon with all his might.

Yet, the pale demon merely released a cold chuckle when the edge of the sword struck the barrier surrounding him. "What was that supposed to do?" He hissed, mocking the man as the proud smirk upon his sallow, bloodstained lips broadened. "Did you think you could harm _me_? If that is your best, Walter would have slaughtered you instantly! I prefer a much slower, painful death for my opponents."

The human's rage escalated as his hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. "Fiend! You haven't seen my best just yet! I am not going to give up so easily!"

"I was hoping you wouldn't." The youth parted his lips, allowing the human to glimpse at his razor-sharp fangs. He could almost smell the man's blood and fear while he waited for him to attack again. Joachim's five symbiotic swords continued floating around him as he drifted, circling his prey, who did nothing except whirl continuously to face him. The creature's robes fluttered behind him like broken wings. He held his head high, casting his gaze downward at the bewildered human.

_I'll toy with this one for a little while, first. I was expecting Walter to finish one game before starting another. That conceited bastard always liked a challenge. Perhaps…Baron Belmont did not survive long enough to find me here…?_

As long as he kept the human occupied in the middle of the room, the glowing orbs suspended in front of the statues were safe from harm. He watched his victim run around the center of the room, undoubtedly trying to buy time to strategize how to attack. The pale creature stopped and levitated in place, chuckling to himself as his piercing eyes followed the human's erratic movements. The enclosed space made it impossible for the man to distance himself. Though the pale nobleman looked human, his terrifying rage and power contradicted it. Joachim's frail, delicate, gentleness was tarnished by malice and hatred. His amusement with the human was fading quickly. The man seemed content with swinging his sword at the barrier, darting back, and running around the room.

_Is this the best Walter can find? That bastard must be getting desperate for someone to entertain him whilst I rot in here. Perhaps, he will grow tired of these games and return for me. I will be sure to prepare some dead rats as a token of my appreciation!_

Slow, unyielding anger began festering inside him the longer he looked at the frightened would-be knight. "This is too easy," he huffed at last as his mind abruptly broke his concentration upon the barrier and allowed it to fade. "Now I am vulnerable. Come and attack me, human!" The man's glaring brown eyes fell upon him as he growled, lifting his sword whilst the soles of his boots thumped across the dirt floor. The moment the man's arm swung the sword, the creature's hand snatched him by the wrist and wrenched the blade from his grasp. "Pathetic." Joachim's icy eyes froze whilst he carelessly tossed the sword away – deliberately out of the human's reach. _Be __still! _The five swords ceased their whirling and aligned behind his back. The moment he was exposed, he felt the human's fist collide into the left side of his jaw. Pain ripped through his face like fire as he jerked his head back, nursing the wound with his hand while blood flowed from a gash in his flesh. A slow, dark grin replaced the white-haired youth's smirk until he burst into a fit of mocking laughter.

The man's eyes widened into saucers and he froze like a startled dear, stupefied by the pale demon's delight. With a gasp, he retreated until his back hit the wall beneath the cross. "What the hell are you?" His voice nearly choked in fear as the levitating creature's laughter increased.

Bright red beacons replaced the youth's once pale, blue eyes as he tilted his head back, allowing strands of his pearly white hair to cascade against his back and shoulders. "Monster!"

Something shattered Joachim in that moment when he heard that one, fatal word echo through his prison. _Monster_. Things people feared and did not understand. Creatures that hid under children's beds at night. Beasts that lurked in the shadows, without a face or a name – only identified by the cruel, mysterious label, 'monster.' Joachim Armster existed but did not exist. The chilling thought echoed through his soul as he stared into the black abyss of his prison.

_Walter loved pretending he was superior to the demons roaming Eternal Night. _

_Some of the worst monsters are the ones we cannot recognize…until it is too late._

_I will die down here…alone…_

_However, even this monster… loved not once, but twice…_

…_And was loved in return…_

It was time to end his little spar. The human had resigned himself to remaining against the wall, too exhausted to fight any longer. Joachim drifted toward the paralyzed man, ignoring the screams and pleas for mercy as he commanded the central sword behind him to lift above his head. The massive blade rose up, tinting a shade of red to match the youth's glowing eyes. Barely a second later, the sword hurtled forth and stabbed the man through the shoulder. Blood spattered across the wall as the human slumped forward, writhing in agony whilst the sword lodged itself completely through his body and into the filthy wall behind him. The vampire drifted forward and up the small flight of crumbling stairs until he reached his victim, who continued to scream like a calf before the slaughter. Joachim's blazing red spheres locked against the human's dark brown. Vaguely, he remembered a time when he was a man. Now, in the dark, sordid room, the only thing reminding him that he even existed at all was the scent of human blood.

_I need you to survive. Monsters are hardly monsters without victims to terrify. I must live long enough to kill Walter. That is my sole purpose for existing, now. You are going to provide the blood – the strength - I require to carry it out. _

_My last wish…before I die…is to take Walter into hell with me._

He allowed the sword to dislodge itself from the wall. The human' writhing body fell forward into his open embrace. For a moment, the stunned man's glassy brown eyes looked up into his. However, the creature's eyes were devoid of the spiritedness they once contained. "Please!" The man pleaded, only to no avail. It did not seem to matter to the human that his fate was sealed. Joachim listened to his slayer continue, the love and hope within him making him seem as frail and desperate as the pale demon once was. "Help me rescue her and kill your lord! You spoke of love, so you should know why I came to this place!"

Joachim glared, unable to stand the sight of his face, and willing to ruin it in order to destroy the last remnants of his conscience. With a cruel, amused chuckle, he turned the human over and pinned his back against the grimy floor. A sardonic sneer appeared across his sallow, bloodstained lips when he snarled. "You tried to kill me. You should know why, then, I have the right to take everything away from you." Hunger filled every fiber of his being as he snatched the man's helmet and tossed it onto the floor. The human's wavy locks splayed untidily across his shoulder blades.

"_Bastard_!" The human screams echoed off the room's bare walls. Despite the man's strength and will, he could not free himself from beneath the vampire's superior hold.

Joachim grasped the man by the nape, threatening to break his neck in half with a mere squeeze as he kicked his boots off, exposing his bare feet and long blackened toenails that resembled a wolf's. The tattered remnants of his indigo robes and armor covered his thin, deathly white form. With a tiny smirk, he padded toward the trembling human, the room's dim torchlight allowing him to shadow the man as he began with a calm flick of the hand. "I may release you after all." He mused whilst his pale, dead eyes gazed down upon the human.

For a brief second, a flash of relief spread across the face of his young, human victim as he rasped breathlessly. "You will release me? I don't believe you, vile wretch-"

The smirk upon Joachim's pale face broadened as he kneeled by the man and grasped his face, pulling it toward him while his voice lowered to a whisper. "Be quiet! My master may overhear us talking." A profound sorrow within him warned that his red-haired condemner had left him to rot in the confines of the underground waterways. Forever doomed, never again to see the night sky or to experience love. It took all of his willpower to resist grimacing from the realization that he had truly been abandoned to suffer and die. Not even his whirling thoughts could bear to focus on the hopelessness of his situation.

After drawing a sharp breath, the vampire continued. "I will free you, if you give yourself to me, willingly. Then, you can run along and play my master's game. Unless, you do not care about your fiancé?"

"I will never give myself to you, fiend!" The human spat, his light brown eyes blazing with renewed fury. "How do I know you would free me if I did?"

"You don't know." The white-haired youth replied, giggling illicitly at the man's enraged expression. The human's eyes narrowed upon him. Despite the hatred he saw reflecting within them, he knew his victim was torn by his offer. "If you refuse, I will drink from you whilst you slowly die screaming like a stuck pig. Your fiancé will certainly be doomed. I assure you, my master's lust exceeds even my own." A wicked glint appeared within his eyes, for the woman was doomed regardless of her savior's choice. Nevertheless, he was eager to play with the human a bit more.

After a long pause, the human shivered under the pale demon's powerful grip, his face a mask of terror as he seethed. "You are nothing but a disgusting, heartless bastard-"

"Is that a no?" Joachim whispered, feeling a familiar, deadly hunger begin to take hold of him when his eyes traced the wound in the man's shoulder. The scent of human blood began to intoxicate him to the point that he heard the man's heart thumping rapidly against his ribcage. The creature parted his lips and revealed the gleaming points of his fangs, willing to rip the man apart if he so much as struggled. "It seems you do not love your fiancé as much as you proclaim. Your valiance means nothing, for it shall result in your own demise."

The sight of his incisors made the man gasp, his voice shaking and echoing off the room's narrow walls when the creature ripped off the human's dirty brown boots with the ferocity of a devil. Joachim pulled the man's pants away and flung them across the room before reaching for his armored chest, removing the steel encasements like the husk of an exotic fruit. Finally, when the terrifying nature of his fate could be delayed no further, the knight cried out. "Wait! Y-You…will…free me if I…cooperate? I came here to save her…because I love her…" Coils of light brown hair danced against his smooth cheeks whilst he looked into the pale demon's eyes.

Joachim cocked his head and paused, for he did not expect his unwilling companion to give in so quickly. Truly, the man would do anything for the sake of love – or to save himself from death. "I will consider it. However, if you even attempt to escape, I'll snuff out your worthless life like a cockroach. Be quiet, for I know my master is listening…"

The young knight simply nodded wordlessly, and his face seemed to turn the color of snow as his voice, once bold and enraged, faintly choked. "I…will…"

The creature continued to tear at the human's clothing with a kind of wild ferocity he had never displayed before. Once he knew the human would give in, nothing would stop him until he made the mortal his. With a snarl, the pale youth tore open the man's shirt and ran his hands across his captive's smooth chest, relishing the warmth that clashed against his cold, grimy fingertips. His companion's heart thumped so rapidly against the frail ribcage protecting it he wondered if it would give way.

Nevertheless, whilst his lips raked across the knight's heaving chest, Joachim's hoarse voice broke the silence. "Do as I say, human. I want you to pleasure me. Get up on your hands and knees."

"What are you going to do to me?" The young knight gasped, his eyes suddenly wide and glassy as the demon pulled away from his chest and smiled at him, revealing his pointed incisors.

"Get up, now!" The white-haired creature hissed, his eyes ablaze with impatience and fury as he drew back from the would-be knight and kneeled next to him. A shadow appeared across his ashen visage as he stared at his companion, his eyes tinting a warning shade of crimson. If the man questioned him again he was prepared to kill him instantly. His patience was running thin, and the aching, hard member between his legs would not grant him relief until it was satisfied. With a roar of impatience, he grasped the human round the neck, his claw-like fingernails digging into the fragile flesh as he pulled the man up and flipped him over upon his front like a doll.

After drawing a heavy breath, the knight rose upon his hands and knees, his entire form trembling until it seemed he would collapse. Silence consumed the tiny room while the demon's pale, glaring optics surveyed the man's built form. Despite the knight's feeble appearance, his graceful muscles and smooth features made the vampire's eyes gleam with delight. Joachim flicked the tails of his robes back as he pressed himself behind the knight and ran his hand down the man's thighs, savoring the warmth and life beneath his fingertips. The pale youth heard his companion's breathing become labored as his index finger probed the human's entrance, the jagged nail threatening to puncture the tender flesh. Even though the knight did not speak, the shudders his touch wrought from the human indicated a pleading hope that he would lose interest and relent. "Do you want me to stop?" Joachim whispered whilst his other hand slid between his companion's legs. His fingertips skimmed the dark, rough coils of the man's hair and danced across the vulnerable organ.

Without breathing a word in reply, the man nodded slowly, refusing to look over his shoulder at the pale creature pressed up behind him. Despite the knight's aversion, he remained upon his hands and knees, even when the vampire's touches increased. Joachim gingerly stroked the organ until he felt it begin to harden. As long as his mortal companion believed he would live, he would have no trouble taking what he wanted until nothing was left. A fear-inducing hiss escaped Joachim's blood-stained lips as he grasped the mortal by the hips while the erect, throbbing organ between his legs pressed against his prisoner's orifice. Then, with one, violent thrust, he forced the bulbous head inside, feeling the flesh tear under the force of his movement. A scream escaped the knight's throat the moment the vampire's erection impaled his insides. The human was so tight that, for a moment, Joachim wondered if he would be able to make a complete descent. Anguished screams reverberated off the prison's dank, damp walls from the man's gaping mouth. Joachim felt his companion almost buckle from the pain. However, refusing to allow the man to recover, he swiveled his hips forward until warmth surrounded his embedded erection. With a loud, gasping moan, the pale youth began to thrust against his screaming companion, forcing the human's tight insides to accommodate his unrelenting organ. The human writhed beneath him, his muscles tensing to the point that his entire frame stiffened until it was nearly statue-like.

A sob broke through the man's throat but fell upon deaf ears. Pleasure entrenched the white-haired demon's visage whilst he increased his pace. The hard, swollen organ rapidly sheathed itself inside while the human's pain flooded the entire room. Within seconds, warm, thick blood trickled down the inside of the man's thighs. The scent of it alone – the reminder of life – filled the creature's nostrils like incense. Joachim's thoughts whirled in a dizzying array – the darkness, grime, filth, sorrow, and suffering blurring until he recognized nothing of himself. In that moment, something inside his wretched soul departed to escape the horror he had become. Guttural gasps of delight and disgust fled the youth's gaping mouth as he purged his captive with abandon. "Move!" He rasped between moans, whilst one of his hands grasped the man round the nape and squeezed, threatening to snap his neck in half like a toothpick. "You like it, don't you? I will tear you apart until not even the devil himself recognizes you!"

The man's writhing form attempted to buck against his thrusts. The motions were slow, uneven, and barely even detectable against the pale creature's rampant thrusts. Blood flowed around him across the filthy floor in streams of red. His nails dug into the man's nape until he felt the human's reluctant movements against him increase. Desperation ran through the core of the man's being, for he had forced the once valiant knight to sin. Even through his mortal companion was unwilling; Joachim had won a small victory against God. In the depths of darkness and solitude, he would reign supreme – undefeated, unquestioned, and unforgotten. Walter would not forget him as long he survived and threatened to overtake Eternal Night.

Joachim ran his hands down the human's smooth back, his broken nails leaving serrated gouges in the flesh. "More!" He gasped, digging his nails into the man's lower back until his demand was obeyed. The knight moved against him quickly, though his strained attempts were of little influence. Nothing would satisfy him except blood. However, despite catching its scent, he was not ready to partake in his precious reward.

Joachim released his hold upon the man and watched the knight fall onto his front upon the floor. Gasps of fear and pain escaped the mortal's trembling lips as he lay near the vampire's feet, unmoving. The creature chuckled to himself, pulling away, and rose to his feet. Without batting an eyelid, he kicked the man in the ribcage with his foot, his voice rasping breathlessly. "Get up, human! If you want to live, you best leave and scurry up to my master in the tower. I'm sure that blood sucking maggot is more eager to kill you than I am."

The creature took a step back, smiling wickedly at the trembling mortal. The man's chest heaved, and the coils of his light brown hair were in complete disarray as though tossed about by a violent wind. Without looking at the vampire's smirking expression, the man limped toward the door. Joachim observed the sight, waiting for the human to grasp the door and wrench it open. The rush of falling water tormented him, for he could not see the source of it, even though he knew it was just beyond the walls of his prison. Now, his pale, dead gaze would take in the sights and scents of freedom. The world beyond the water prison would belong to him, and he would be free to roam about the castle and seek vengeance against the demon who wronged him. Justice would be served by the blades of his swords. Joachim relished the thought as he watched the man approach the door and grasp the tiny gap between the doorframe and the wall. If the knight could enter the prison, he would surely be able to leave?

Or so the creature assumed, until the man's efforts were suddenly for naught. Despite the human's attempts to pull the door open, its cold stone frame refused to give way. Suddenly, the passage to freedom had become a cruel mockery. As soon as his pale blue eyes alit with hope, the light within them was replaced by radiant crimson. Fire filled every fiber of his being as he looked on at the human's pathetic struggles to escape. The door would yield to no one except the red-haired devil that had consigned him to the water prison for eternity.

Love had saved him and damned him, just as Walter said it would. There was no escaping from hell. Instead of fire, water dripped from the walls and splashed against his face like acid. Joachim wrung his hands as a sorrowful, bitter howl escaped his lips and filled the room until the walls he did not weep, despite the fear and horror flashing across the human's face as the naked knight turned and faced him. The human pressed against the door, perhaps out of a hopeless desire to escape from the creature before him.

Joachim paced across the room, wringing his hands, and threw a glare upon his trembling captive. "I cannot let you leave me while my master still rules the night. As promised, I will free you. I, on the other hand, can't be freed from this fate…yet."

"Get away from me!"

The human screamed, his eyes widening as the pale creature tossed his head, curtaining part of his face behind a veil of matted white hair. Joachim's eyes narrowed as the glow in his eyes intensified. He did not even need to move for his raging thoughts to seize the trembling mortal and pull him forward. The power of his mind alone was enough to drag the man, kicking and screaming, into his open embrace. There was no chance of escape, now. The pale demon grasped his unwilling captive by the throat. Both the man's hands grabbed him by the wrist, kicking desperately against the vampire like a wounded stag. The human's dirty fingers attempted to pry the creature's vice-like grip loose, though his valiant efforts merely made Joachim chuckle. The youth's icy eyes gleamed in the shadows, his face a veil of white death whilst he squeezed his captive's jugular. His jaws parted and clamped upon the man's tender throat, puncturing through the sweat-streaked flesh with terrifying ease.

Barely a second passed before he felt the human's red essence rush down his throat – the warm liquid filling him with a brief sense of relief. His cracked, sallow lips tightened around the wound while he fed. Streams of blood trickled from the corners of his mouth and dripped off his chin as though painted upon his skin by the devil's hand. The youth's eyes widened and glazed, his throat emitting a guttural purr not unlike a savage beast. It was difficult to imagine that a once frail, gentle, and sickly young man held his captive with the strength of a lion. The jagged tips of his broken fingernails dug into the man's jaw and ribcage until the flesh bled. He did not stop until he felt the knight's pulse grow faint.

Joachim ripped his fangs out of the human's hemorrhaging vein. Rage bubbled behind the calm unblinking pools of his icy eyes. Just as death had claimed everything he loved, it sought to claim the object of his amusement. Terrible, uncontrollable fury flickered in his eyes when he threw the body onto its front over the floor and positioned himself on top of it. Curtains of lush ivory hair cascaded recklessly against his face as he rubbed his hardening organ with his hand, probing the silky wet tip with his index finger until it was sufficiently prepared. With a labored moan, he sheathed himself inside the man. Finally, his companion withdrew a last shuddering breath – the last desperate gasp of a soul defiled. The human's eyes remained open and unblinking, his mouth agape like a fish, whilst his body fell limp and cold. Blood, once flowing freely, slowly congealed as death claimed the human's soul, whilst passing over the wretched nobleman like a leper.

The blood, rather than satiating him, had fueled his urges. What purpose would vigor serve him, if only to keep him awake so that he would have to sit and stare at the prison's filthy sodden walls? The thought alone was unbearable. Breathless gasps fled his parted lips as his hips rolled forward and back in a rocking rhythm. He lifted himself up slightly as his hands slid across its back, hips, and thighs, noting how the cold touch of his captive's flesh rivaled his own. His lungs took in the prison's moist, heavy air. He was left to the silence of his own heart and soul – in his underground prison, which seemed so distant from the world that he no longer considered himself a part of it. Walter finally allowed him to rule…the Dark Palace would torment him to the end of time. In his disorientated hunger, he forgot everything except his thirst.

The wretched prison reeked of decay. His ears fleetingly took in the faint dripping of water. Everything in his prison was dark and gray. The world of color – of crystalline blue, emerald green, and amethyst purple were nowhere in the sordid room. Nothing was distinguishable. How much time had passed he did not know. Curtains of damp, lush hair fell across his naked shoulder blades and his cracked, blood-soaked lips curled when he threw his head back. With a fervent gasp, he climaxed, barely aware of it until he withdrew himself. His cold, dead eyes surveyed the lifeless form beneath him with indifference. The pleasure was all his, but he felt nothing.

The creature's chest heaved as he sat up; his legs still spread with the tattered tails of his indigo colored robes draped across his thighs. He had not drained the man completely on purpose, for he would need to renew his expended strength before it dried up completely. He gathered his thoughts and focused them upon his swords, summoning them into action. The central blade floated into his outstretched hand until his fingers wound around the hilt. Then, as if cutting apart a piece of fruit, he lowered the heavy blade across the body's left arm. Blood seeped into the dirt-covered floor whilst he severed the arm. The merciless blade tore pieces of flesh and muscle until blood painted the floor red. The creature grasped the severed arm by the wrist and tossed it carelessly across the room. His unblinking gaze tinted a faint shade of red as he worked upon the corpse like an artist, gingerly cutting away the remains with the precision of a butcher. He proceeded to the right arm, slid the blade across the tender flesh, and ground the sword through the bone. Without making a clean cut, he grasped the wrist and pulled upon the arm until the flesh tore and finally gave way completely. Joyful laughter escaped his throat as he held the arm up and tilted back his head, allowing the blood to drain into his mouth and flow recklessly down his neck and chest in thick, crimson streams.

After a time, he dismembered all the corpse's limbs, and placed each one at the base of the statues. _I __have __become __rather __talented __with __the __art __of __killing, __perhaps __even __more __so __than __my __master__…_ Wild laughter escaped his lips as he drew his sword's steel blade across the corpse's throat and sliced through it. It took one, well-aimed swipe for him to sever the head completely from the neck. Blood spattered across the room's grimy walls and covered them like crimson rain. Then, in a fit of hysteria, his thoughts commanded the swords to wedge their blades into the earth. However, two swords continued to float around him like loyal dogs whilst he picked up the severed head. _Come __and __rest.__Your __work __is __done, __for __now._With a huff, he allowed one blade to fall and rest against his shoulder, its metallic edge angling downward into the earth between his legs. The central sword continued to orbit slowly around him. Joachim admired the blood-covered tip of the weapon's long, metallic blade. After a pause, he clutched the severed head against his chest like a child holding a doll.

_Perhaps, I shall keep the heads of the knights I slay and count them after each battle. If my master returns, he will see the carnage I am capable of inflicting. Then, he will see I am worthy of challenging him a second time…I am worthy…I'll beat them...Walter will see. I won't stop until I taste his lips…and his blood._

The youth's sallow lips parted, revealing his pointed incisors as the blade orbiting him floated toward his outstretched hand. Blood trickled into his open palm, staining the once brilliant white flesh red. An emotionless laugh escaped his throat when he pressed his palm against his lips, allowing his tongue to lick the claret colored liquid, partaking in the wondrous taste of death.

Bloodshed and death surrounded him everywhere. The four filthy walls of his prison were spattered with blood. As he lay covered in the accrused red liquid, his finely tipped ears twitched upon hearing faint cries. He jumped to his feet, tossing the head away like a child tired of a toy, and hearing it land upon the floor with a dull thump. The creature's pale eyes widened into saucers whilst he searched for the infant.

_Where are you? I am here, I am here, I will comfort you…my child…my child….I was unable to protect you then, but I am here now. No harm shall befall you whilst I am here. The waterfalls….frighten you…as well as I._

A young woman with ebony hair curled into thick ringlets sat on the floor against the wall. The woman's face was hidden behind the thick coils of her raven hair. Without thinking, he reached out to her, his eyes blurring with tears. _No__…__!_The woman was swaddling a tiny cloth bundle in her arms covered in blood. Unable to compose himself, he fell to his knees and wept, lamenting the creature whose life God had sobs, he saw the woman's dull green eyes gazing endlessly upon him. Nearly desperate, he staggered to his feet and ran toward her, his eyes focused upon the woman huddled in the shadows. He reached out to her, his pale hand floating through the blackness to take the tiny bundle from her arms. The bundle was silent and unmoving. Blood tricked from the cloth and stained her hands and dress.

He struggled for words, though language itself was meaningless in the prison.. Language was only meaningful when there was someone to speak to. Yet, in the prison, his only companions were cold, lifeless statues and bloodstained swords. There was no one to hear his lament. When he blinked, the woman was gone. All that remained was the rusting cross adorning the wall. Tears trickled down his cheeks in rivers until he wiped them away with the back of his sleeve, his eyes professing the emotions churning within him like a vicious gale sweeping him further into the darkness. Whereas love controlled the heart, grief controlled the mind. Not even time could erase suffering, no matter how much he longed to free himself from it.

Joachim shivered as he glanced around the room, feeling the eyes of the statues somehow locking upon him in that instant. He could feel the mighty stone objects closing in on him from the three corners of the room as if controlled by an unseen force. The vampire feared their massive weapons, knowing they wanted to slice him to pieces, for his offering of human limbs was not enough to satisfy their need for death. _They__want__to__watch__me__kill__…__but__nothing__is__enough._

_Even if I filled this room with blood, it is not enough…not until Walter is dead…and I rule Eternal Night. I would've won…I would've won….but that damn stone…that accursed Ebony Stone…_

His eyes narrowed whilst he seethed, feeling his hands ball into quavering fists. The young nobleman smiled to himself, allowing the strange upward turn of his lips to provide a sinister air. Between his bloodstained lips, the two points of his fangs gleamed in the darkness. He shifted his slender form to a crouched position over the floor with his back deliberately turned against the door. A small part of him still clung to the idea Walter would return to collect his abandoned servant, that at any moment his lord would walk through the door and demand his submission.

_I will escape from here…I will find you…and then kill you. You will die…you will…die…with me…!_

It did not matter who entered his prison to face him, since his longing for blood was stronger his will to spare the life of his slayers. Joachim repulsed the idea of protecting Walter, but the vampire lord had made a clever ploy to trap him underground, so his only options were to kill the knights attempting to reach Walter or die by their swords. The realization made him seethe incessantly, added by the relishing images of the room being splattered with mankind's blood, that he would indulge himself upon like a true lord reaping the rewards of his encounters. It was what a lord did if he was victorious, and it was the very thing his father received when combating the heathens in the east. Instead of profiting from gold and silver, his would be red.

_You will know death at last, Walter. I shall hold you in my arms… kiss your lips…while I impale your heart…with my hatred._

The lack of blood left only his iron will to remain awake unbroken. He remained still, with his head lowered and gazing listlessly at the floor. Yet, as quickly as he had grown to detest his fate, quick was his mind to scorn humanity and Walter. Indeed, when his mind seemed to become drunk on images of blood and corpses, a steady smile spread across his lips and his eyes flickered. Within their red glow; however, droplets slid down his cheeks.

Like a shadow, he disappeared into the darkness…

Alone and forgotten.


	34. Chapter 34: Ascension

**Author's Note: **It has been over three months since I updated this story and I apologize for the delay. I hope you didn't think _Melancholia_ was going into the unfinished "graveyard" section! School has kept me extremely busy but I found time to write whenever I could. It takes a long time to write each chapter and I put a lot of effort into my work. _Melancholia_ is almost finished and I'm very grateful for the time people have spent reading and reviewing; you're comments help keep this story going! Sadly though, the story is near it's end but it will have an epilogue, as soon as I can write it!

I received a lot of questions from people wondering when Leon is going to show up and what will happen...well, if you read, you will find out! I kept all of the dialogue from Lament of Innocence (to stay true to canon as much as possible) but added extra dialogue in because I felt what was shown in LoI wasn't descriptive enough. LoI was made during a time when cutscenes in video games were shorter because of technology, etc. Do forgive me for taking "liberties" with the video game's storyline; I hope you think my depictions are believable anyway. Leon is my favorite Belmont so I'm more than pleased to finally incorporate him into Joachim's storyline.

**Special Thanks:**

LateNiteSlacker - for always supporting my work and being awesome! :D If you find grammar problems in this chapter send me a message and I'll fix them as usual! (^-^)

AzariyaBelmont - For always supporting Walter and being his biggest fan lol! Our red-haired vampire lord doesn't get nearly as much attention as he should! Thank you for reading.

haruharu - I didn't hear from you in a while until you reviewed the chapter before this one (yay!) thank you for continuing to read and support this story! :) P.S. I'm working on a Leon story...still...but it's coming along and I will post it as soon as it's done so stay tuned. Also, Leon is in this chapter and I hope you like it.

yaoi-thundeh - haven't heard from you in a while but thank you for reading and I hope you like this chapter, even though it's kind of long :)

danceofgold - haven't heard from you in a while either but I hope you're still reading and writing awesome fics!

Mysza - Thank you for your feedback. I'm sorry it took so long for me to update this fic and I hope you will enjoy this chapter. I'm working on the next chapter right now so you can expect another update sometime in the near future :)

**Chapter XXXIV**

The hot sun licked at Leon's face like a devil's tongue, and he beginning to feel faint from hunger and exhaustion. He spent most of the day patrolling the camp's perimeter scanning the thin horizon line for the metallic reflections of drawn swords. A dry wind scratched against his cheeks and rustled the golden layers of his sweat-drenched hair. Grains of sand blew inside his robes, armor, and boots; irritating his skin and reddening his eyes. On several occasions, the sand made his eyes swollen and infected. Illness and disease struck the camp like wildfire; wiping out twenty of his men in a span of two weeks. Remnants of dried blood and dirt caked on his surcoat and armor from the heat. He had just finished helping some of his men bury the bodies of their comrades. The battle over, he awaited the Vatican's orders.

Desperate to find relief from the relentless sun, he stepped inside the shelter of a spacious tent. A fine red rug covered the ground beneath his feet. To his left was a modest bed; to his right a wooden table covered with books, parchment, and several dozen maps. He gave the maps a glance, noting the familiar inky black handwriting scrawled upon the parchment. The maps were littered with markers and notes penned calculatingly and without the slightest misjudgment. Mathias never wrote anything down unless he was certain of his accuracy. His friend spent hours hunched over a table, quill in hand, checking, and re-checking his calculations. Upon their initial meeting years previously, Mathias' intensity and caution initially annoyed the hasty honor-driven knight.

"_You spend days planning out a single assault, asking yourself whether the odds are more favorable if the wind blows from the east against us, or whether attacking at midday would be more advantageous than at nightfall! Surely, victory is not dependent on the condition of the weather, but rather, on the bravery of the men?"_

During his first encounter with Mathias years past, he was young and reckless and too naïve to understand his friend's taste for battle was seasoned by years studying the failures and assumptions of their enemies. Mathias warned him that the heathens might expect them to attack at nightfall, for Leon had ordered them to do so numerous times previously. Leon remembered the tactician's reply well:

"_Attacking at midday could be foolish! They will easily see us approaching, and retaliate immediately. Daytime promises nothing but desert sands drenched in the blood of our own men."_

Mathias reassured him of another plan. Thus, three days hence, they instigated a skirmish at midday. The battle lasted hours, with men falling on each side, and ending in his company's deliberate retreat. Anger had surged through his veins when he confronted Lord Cronqvist about his ambiguous intentions. Mathias' dark eyes looked upon him fleetingly, and without the slightest indication of regret, the man instructed him to attack again at nightfall. Leon reluctantly followed the tactician's advice, amidst protests from his men, only to realize that the battle-weary group of heathens camped were not expecting a second assault. Most of the heathen soldiers were drunk and reveling in a premature victory. Under veiling darkness, Leon's company surrounded the encampment and victory was swiftly theirs. From that day onward, he never questioned Mathias' judgment again.

Other hard-fought battle were won over their five-year campaign, due in part to Leon's leadership in battle, and Mathias' strategic planning. Although a knight, Mathias was more skilled with a pen than a sword. When Leon's gaze lifted from the maps, his attention fell upon his friend seated at his desk, clutching a letter. Mathias' opaque eyes stared intensely at the letter. A faint trace of a smile creased the corners of his smooth lips, whilst thick waves of chocolate colored hair slinked across his shoulders and back when his head lifted, and he rose to greet him. The tactician's forest-green robes flowed around his feet. Leon could not understand why Mathias wore heavy garments amidst such terrible heat. Whenever he and Mathias met, the tactician expressed a reserved but candid disposition.

Leon was not familiar with every nuance of Mathias' history, but he knew his friend was extremely well-educated, even more so than himself. Few people were gifted enough to study with the most respected intellects of their time. Born into a privileged and widely admired family, Mathias spent his early years studying at various monasteries across Europe, learning to read, write, and speak English, Latin, and Greek, while studying the works ancient philosophers and Christian scriptures. The church recognized Mathias' brilliant mind and sought to nurture his talents. Mathias eventually studied at universities in Rome and Athens where he quickly became renowned for his expertise in medicine, history, and science. Everything Mathias did was in the name of God. To Leon, Mathis was as devout a Christian as the church's patron saints. Mathias spoke of God often, praising Him for giving him the most precious gift ever known to him: his wife, Elisabetha.

The moment Leon sensed Mathias' joy; he knew the source of the tactician's happiness. "Welcome, Leon." Mathias' voice trembled briefly, until he caught himself, and bowed his head. "I was not expecting you, though the day brings good news, which I am certain you will wish to hear."

Leon stared at his friend, taken aback, but interested. He bowed his head, confessing his returned enthusiasm with a smile, while trying to ignore the faintness he felt even though he was shaded from the sun. "I don't think I have seen you this happy in months, my friend." He replied, chuckling in spite his discomfort from the heat. "What news do you speak of? Believe me, I shall be glad to hear it. The dead are buried, but I can still catch the scent of their blood in the air. Although our men are weary, they are ready, should the Pope require our protection near the battlements further west. I considered asking whether or not you received word from Rome?"

"Indeed, I have." Mathias lifted his left hand, presenting the letter like a prize. "We have fought honorably, and our victory has created new hope for the Church. The Pope is pleased with our efforts; he specifically wishes to speak with you upon our return to Europe. A fortnight from hence we are instructed to depart."

"We will return to Europe?" Leon gave the man a stunned look, and his lucid blue spheres widened. "I thought we were to remain here for another year? This is quite sudden, but perhaps a blessing, nonetheless."

"Our progress has led to insurmountable successes elsewhere. We have been away from our homes for too long, tis' time for our company to fulfill God's will not only through defeating His enemies, but through living and doing His work. I thought the Pope's letter would bring you relief?"

"I assure you, I am glad to hear it, Mathias." Leon could barely believe what was happening. Within six month's time, green fields would replace the cruel desert sands. Without thinking, he hurried toward the other desk and attempted to sort through the stacks of maps, searching for an extra quill and unused parchment with the impatience of a child. All the while, his mood lightened considerably. "I will write to Sara immediately and inform her of my impending return. I promised her I would return again, and I shall make her wait no longer, for she has been patient and faithful during my absence."

"I knew you would be eager to write to your betrothed," Mathias answered, his dark eyes glinting slightly as he withdrew a quill from his robe pocket and offered it to him. "You have done well, Leon. Thanks to your efforts, victory is ours. Out enemies' recent loss indicates they will be unable to regroup their forces for some time. Most of their surviving soldiers have scattered far into the badlands."

"Without your planning, victory could not have been possible. I am in your debt, old friend." A smile spread across Leon's lips and he bowed. Locks of golden hair splayed against his damp cheeks whilst he withdrew a breath and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. His fair skin gleamed with perspiration; which burned rather than tanned in the penetrating sunlight.

Mathias did not smile in return, though Leon could sense his friend was in good spirits. Nevertheless, he could have sworn to have seen the corners of the tactician's fine lips lift, his dark eyes tracing the knight's fervor with silent interest. Waves of dark brown hair cascaded across his shoulders when he turned and ushered to a nearby chair. "Would you care to share a glass of wine with me, Leon? Though your duties bind you to our men, perhaps, you could allow for but a moment's time to revel in our fortune. Alas, such times have been few till now."

"It would be an honour." Leon bowed his head, overtaken by the fact that Sara's graceful smile would once again bless him upon his return. He seated himself in the chair; Mathias sitting down in the chair at his desk across from him. The tactician lifted up a small crate beside the desk and withdrew a bottle of wine and two goblets.

Without a word, Leon watched his friend uncork the bottle and pour claret colored liquid into each glass. "Are you not looking forward to returning home, Mathias?" Leon asked, his blue eyes focusing on the tactician.

"I dream of nothing more." Mathias paused. Initially, it seemed like his dark eyes would reveal nothing of his thoughts to the inquisitive knight. However, he added cheerfully. "I wonder when Lady Trantoul shall become your wife, for she has waited a year since you asked for her hand at the tender age of sixteen. Will you make her wait longer still? Perhaps I shall drag you to the alter myself."

"Ah, yes – the wedding. You know I would never forget, nor would I willingly delay marrying such a beautiful and gentle creature as Lady Trantoul. I regret that she must wait in fear for me; and I believe her brave fidelity makes her far worthier of praise and honor than I."

A smile spread across Mathias' lips as he handed Leon a goblet and raised his in a toast, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Then let us toast not to our victory, but to Lady Trantoul, the unfortunate lady who must endure you for the remainder of her life! I pity the woman awaiting such a reckless knight; guided by his heart rather than sense!"

"Your wit knows no bounds, Mathias!" Leon shot back, chuckling, as they clinked their goblets. "Do not incline me to remind you about that time you found a scorpion in your bed-"

Mathias took an uneasy sip of wine, his smile broadening. "Let us call this a stalemate, shall we?"

* * *

Like Leon, Mathias was fair, for he the protection of the tent shielded him from the scorching heat. Mathias seldom left the tent, unless travelling was necessary. Even while traveling, the tactician was extremely sensitive to the heat and the light. Leon used to ride his horse close to Mathias' during their journeys, for on at least three occasions, his comrade succumbed to the heat and fainted. Although Mathias' skills made him essential, the possibility of losing him to the harsh desert climate troubled Leon, and from henceforth, he insisted his friend shelter himself inside one of the canvas-covered supply caravans whenever they moved.

Leon often sought Mathias' council. The tactician was ten years older than the twenty-one year old knight and more experienced. During their brief months away from the east, Mathias invited him to be a guest at his estate for months on end, to which Leon obliged. Together, they often strolled through the gardens of Mathias' estate, discussing politics, the war, domestic affairs, and - during one instance – their beloveds. Mathias' steps were slow and methodical; Leon's light and deliberate. The tactician and knight contrasted and complimented one another simultaneously.

The first time Leon met Mathias' wife, the lady's serene eyes absorbed him completely, and her beautiful, porcelain white skin made her seem almost ethereal. Elisabetha's voice was gentle and soft. The lady had bowed her head the first time they met, her sun-kissed hair tumbling across her shoulders and back, a modest smile pressing across her petal-like lips as she welcomed him into their home. Only when Elisabetha was with Mathias could Leon sense the profoundness of his friend's affection. In Elisabetha's presence, the tactician's careful gaze became animated, and her very presence seemed to breathe new life into his soul. One evening, Leon happened to be returning to his chambers, and caught sight of Mathias and Lady Cronqvist sitting together on a bench in the garden. The lady's long, gold and white colored dress flowed around her like the robes of a seraph, whilst her head rested against her husband's shoulder. Leon could hear Mathias speaking to her, but his friend's voice was barely audible, and he did not wish to intrude upon his host's private affairs. Nevertheless, during his stays at Mathias' estate, Leon never doubted the man's devotion to his wife for an instant. Even when God took their souls, he was certain Lord Cronqvist would find her again in heaven, for nothing seemed able to separate them.

Barely a week after receiving orders bounding their company homeward, the arrival of another letter destroyed the tactician's sanguinity in an instant. Leon remembered that night all too well. One of his guards awoke him from his slumber and informed him that the tactician had fallen into a sudden bout of hysterics. The very notion of Mathias' calm reserve failing made the knight hasten to his friend's tent with lightning-like speed. Leon tossed aside the flap covering the tent door and his eyes were blinded by the light of a lantern on the desk. Parchment and maps were scattered across the floor of the tent; wooden chests overturned and their contents strewn haphazardly throughout. Mathias was hunched over in front of his writing table. The man's back was turned and one hand rested on top of the desk, his long hair curtaining his face from view. Leon had stood in the entrance of the tent for a moment, too stunned to move, his bright blue eyes widening in concern. He watched Mathias' other hand lift to his brow in dismay.

The tactician did not even hear the knight arrive, or if he did, initially took no notice of Leon's presence until the young man spoke. "Lord Cronqvist, are you all right? What has happened?"

A long time of silence passed and Leon dare not move or pursue an answer quickly, lest he cause his friend further distress. Mathias did not turn around, though Leon noticed that the tactician trembled slightly. Then, as if time was suddenly important, Mathias turned, revealing his ghostly pale visage. Clutched in one of the tactician's hands was a letter, and his grip upon the object was so rigid that his knuckles turned white. Mathias' once dark, calm eyes fell upon the knight, their intensity trapping Leon's voice in his throat. When the tactician spoke, his voice was barely audible. "Elisabetha…is stricken by illness. I-I must go to her, immediately…"

"She is ill?" Leon repeated, feeling the muscles in his arms and shoulders tense. The knight's azure colored eyes widened whilst he studied Mathias, alarmed by his friend's stricken expression. Mathias had always been a composed man; but now, his calm was held by nary a thread. After drawing a breath, he continued. "I understand if you must leave at once, and I shall accompany you. You need not bear this unfortunate circumstance alone, Mathias."

The tactician stared at him, his dark hollow eyes tracing Leon's face. The dim light from the lantern cast a shadow across Mathias' handsome visage, half-shrouding his fine features in light and shadow. Suddenly, and perhaps without realizing it, his fingers clenched, and the note crumpled in his fist. Pain etched across the tactician's face so plainly that Leon felt an ache well inside his heart – for he was helpless to relive his friend's distress.

Mathias' head lowered, and voice fell to a whisper. "I...I should have been there for her, when she needed me most. Every day she grows weaker; I would sacrifice a thousand lifetimes in this world for her to be well again. Tis'…too soon-"

"Speak no more, friend." Leon interrupted, unwilling to allow the man to fall so quickly into despairing thoughts. "I will have our men ready our horses and supplies. We shall return as swiftly as the beasts will carry us, and hope will be our guiding star along the way. There is nothing more you can do, now."

Mathias shook his head. "Nothing more…I will remain by her side until she recovers. I will not leave her again, for too long has duty parted us, and death shall not have its victory. God will spare her, for I have served Him as devoutly as Christ's disciples have, and I ask for nothing more than His mercy."

"I will pray for you and your wife." Leon bowed his head. The journey to Mathias' estate would be a long and difficult one. No matter how exhausting it was, they would press on. If Sara were to fall ill, Mathias would have accompanied him just the same.

The evening they rode onto the grounds of Lord Cronqvist's estate, the dying sun shone behind them, its dim light shadowing them as their horses ground to a half before the manor's entrance. Lord Cronqvist's attendants met them immediately, though their faces were sullen, and a strange tension hung in the air. Without greeting them, Mathias dismounted and swept inside the manor, his long forest green robes trailing behind him as he went. The tactician's steps, once leisurely, were swift and urgent. Leon accompanied the tactician like a loyal dog, his bright blue eyes gleaming anxiously as they passed through the manor's candlelit halls. Long tendrils of chestnut colored hair floated around Mathias' paling face as he went, whist his lips whispered earnest prayers. One of the tactician's hands grasped onto a silver cross necklace strung about his neck. The tactician was weary from months of travelling, and neither man knew how long it had taken them to arrive at the estate, even though time was precious and always against them. Mathias seemed to forget everything except his beloved.

Upon reaching Lady Cronqvist's bedchambers, her servants attempted to prevent them from entering. The women bowed deeply, and their eyes were downcast. Leon halted behind Mathias, immediately sensing the urgency behind their insistence. However, Mathias would yield to no one, and swept passed them, ignoring their pleas for him to desist. The tactician's voice trembled, and his wide eyes shone with fear. His only thoughts were of his wife, and the very air he breathed seemed to be for her alone. When he spoke, his voice was soft. "_Elisabetha_-"

Leon lifted his hand to his brow and was unable to speak. Nothing he could say would ease the tactician's desperate desire to be with his wife. In that moment, the knight could only look on powerlessly.

The servants' fatal truth shattered all hope. "Milord, Lady Cronqvist…departed this world nary an hour ago. The last word she spoke was your name."

Mathias did not breathe a word in response. Without looking at the servants, he flung the door open and rushed to his wife's bedside. Lady Cronqvist lay in bed, her eyes lightly closed in eternal sleep. Locks of wavy golden hair framed her soft, beautiful face. The lady's delicate hands rested upon her breast. She was so still and pale that even heaven's seraphs might have mourned her passing. Mathias kneeled at her bedside, and pressed her porcelain hand to his lips. Leon barely retained his composure as he watched Mathias; hearing the man's voice whispering her name repeatedly in a desperate plea for her to awaken. All the color drained from the tactician's face as his other hand touched her cheek, feeling her cold, damp flesh beneath his fingertips as affirmation of her passing.

It was difficult for Leon to fathom that barely an hour earlier, life had flowed through Lady Cronqvist's veins, and that she passed away the very evening of her husband's arrival. But as the knight saw her now, she lay unmoving; her soul destined for heaven. Grief washed across Mathias' face as he gently stroked her hair. Tears rolled down the tactician's cheeks until at last, his calm veil disappeared, and he wept.

Leon wanted to remain with Mathias but decided it would be more respectful to allow his friend to mourn in solitude. A gloom shadowed Lord Cronqvist's manor like a dark specter as Leon retreated into the solar room. The knight watched the servants walk about the halls and draw the curtains over the windows in each room, casting the once bright and vibrant estate beneath a dark shroud in obedience to their master's sullen request. Days passed, and Leon scarcely saw sunlight, except when he dared to venture onto the balcony to escape the shadows he reluctantly dwelled within. A priest had given Lady Cronqvist her last rites before her passing, and Leon found some comfort in knowing God would welcome her soul into heaven.

On a cloudy afternoon, the day before Lady Cronqvist was to be buried, Leon remained in darkened solar room; the fireplace alit, and a candle burning on the table beside the chair in which he sat. He tried to read a book but could not concentrate long enough before his thoughts drifted to Mathias. When he could not read, he attempted to draft a letter to Sara explaining the tragedy that had befallen Lord Cronqvist. It pained Leon to have to delay their wedding yet again, but he could not marry while Mathias grieved the loss of his wife. Although the young man did not doubt Sara would understand the circumstances, his hand shook when he tried to write and the letter was illegible. Eventually, he decided to give up the task, and sat staring into the crackling embers of the fireplace, lost within his thoughts.

Sometime later, the sound of familiar footsteps approaching startled Leon. It was difficult to see Mathias within the poorly lit room, but he caught sight of the tactician's pallid face the moment he entered. Mathias' steps were heavy and his hollow eyes focused upon the knight intensely. A haggard and gloomy air accompanied the tactician, so much so that Leon could almost feel it from where he was. Without greeting him, Mathias swept across the room and collapsed by the fire, his hands hanging limply over the arms of his chair. Mathias' eyes gazed listlessly into the flames, his frame statue-like and fragile in appearance. The tactician was so haggard that Leon almost feared, if he dare breathe a word, the man would crumble into dust. There was no doubt in the knight's mind that his friend had not slept in days. The tactician's glossy brown hair rested carelessly against his shoulders and back in untidy waves. Insomnia had made Mathias' eyes sunken and his movements languid. The tactician exchanged his dark green robes for black out of mourning, and his grieving state haunted Leon to the point that the knight felt compelled to look away. Nothing he said could bring Elisabetha back.

However, Leon refused to leave his grieving friend. In an attempt to comfort the tactician, he spoke softly. "I…I am sorry, Mathias. You have my sincerest condolences. If…there is anything I can do, do not hesitate to ask, for I will do whatever I can to assist you through this difficult time…"

Words seemed useless. The knight did not know what more he could say, for Mathias continued to stare endlessly into the fire without even batting an eyelid or daring to acknowledge him with a glance. Leon took a moment to collect his thoughts, his face paling when silence consumed them. Frustration filled the knight whilst he reflected upon his inability to console his friend, but he had no other option except to continue reassuring him.

"There was nothing you could do."

Silence.

Mathias continued to stare into the flames, his mysterious, empty eyes flickering for a moment. Shadows danced across the tactician's face, veiling his thoughts. Leon shook his head while his watery blue eyes surveyed his friend in concern. "You do not look well," he added softly. "Perhaps you should rest and recover your strength. I will continue to pray for you, my friend. May God watch over you and help you find her soul again."

Suddenly, Mathias seemed to become alert to what the knight said, and his eyes diverted from the fire to Leon. For the first time, the tactician looked sharply at his friend, and his lips curled into a deep frown. Then, without warning, Mathias bolted from his chair. Leon startled but did not move , for the intensity of his friend's gaze left him in a stunned silence. Anger filtered through the tactician's eyes when he at last spoke. Mathias' voice was solemn despite the emotions churning beneath his wan exterior. The tactician wrung his hands as he replied bitterly.

"God? What God do you speak of? The God you mention is undeserving of any prayer, for His cruelty and greed knows no bounds. My wife's death…happened because God would not spare her, not even for one of his most devout servants. Damn God to oblivion, or perhaps myself instead. God would not save her life, and thus, He will not save my soul. I shall worship Him no longer, He who stole her into the next world, tearing her from me without the slightest care.

The devil himself should be absolved, for God is the true deceiver, and I lament the innocence He pilfered from me like a thief, the innocence I would cherish till my dying breath, for she was my life, and all that I am and am no more. The love of God is falsehood spread by lying tongues; as dangerous as snakes that lurk within the shadows waiting to trap their prey, like priests luring worshippers within the church. I now understand my fate, for I am but a pawn, a token to be played and cast aside when my use is no longer of value. I, who endured the horror of His corrupt holy land; blood and death tarnish forever the souls of men who murdered and died in His name.

My hands drip with the crimson stain of my sins. I who left love behind for glory, now regret His fallacy and am damned forever to solitude in a world full of hate. The God you speak of lovingly in prayer; whose grasping hands tear the soul from the body, as Eve when she took the forbidden fruit from the tree of life, binds me no longer within his iron grip. I, the stray lamb, will forge my own destiny whether it is by His will or not."

As Mathias spoke, Leon's face turned a shade of white, and his hands gripped the arms of his chair as though he were shackled to it like a prisoner. He stared at his friend, whose anger and pain rose to the surface with the intensity of a storm. The passion in the tactician's voice both repulsed and fascinated Leon, whose heart ached from his friend's anguish and rebuke, which had then believed was insincere. The knight observed Mathias' pale visage and weakened frame sympathetically. When the tactician fell into silence, Leon placed a hand to his brow, and replied gently.

"Alas, you seem to be fraught with hysterics, which is by no fault of your own. Lack of sleep has made you weary and troubled, dear friend. If God is truly a deceiver; why then, would he bless you with Elisabetha and her love? Tis' true, the work of God is incomprehensible to man, and we blame Him for not revealing His secrets even though we are unworthy of knowing them. God has given you precious gifts, which you scorn in the fury of your hate, without realizing grief's power to cloud the mind and distort the heart. Cherish the memory of ones you loved, for one day you shall see them again, for God promises salvation from the darkness of this world.

Tis' men who are corrupt, like Judas who exchanged Christ's life for silver, man bargains with the devil; blood, sin, and revenge is all we will receive in return from the one who rebuked Him. If only you could see that love, compassion, and selflessness are God's gifts to man, and despite the fact our world is wrought with temptation, we can choose not to succumb to despair. Men of doubt say the Bible is nothing more than contradictions written by sinners, but such men are also full of contradictions and sin, so which is truth? The gentle lamb is vulnerable and harmless; whilst the snake slithers on its belly, ready to poison man with its false-speaking tongue and venomous denunciations.

Perhaps I am a pawn, and perhaps I am not; though I believe I do God's work, and should my actions result in sin, may He judge and forgive my indiscretions, for we ultimately choose whether to enter heaven's gates or be cast into the dark abyss. Even if the abyss swallows us, God shall forgive, and the repentant sinner can regain salvation because of His love. Though you may stray, the shepherd watches over His flock, and will guide you back if you seek Him out. I cannot place blame upon you for doubting because I am not invulnerable to sorrow and anger, even though I have faith in Him. Do not despair, Mathias, I will not abandon you in your time of grief. May my strength be yours."

To this, Mathias gave little in reply, except to whisper. "Though you speak with a benevolent and faithful heart, I wonder if your compassion could withstand a loss as great as my own…"

"What do you mean?" Leon answered, attempting to perceive the thoughts veiled beneath the tactician's ambiguous gaze.

Mathias withdrew to the doorway. Leon was about to rise from his chair in protest until the tactician turned around and replied enigmatically. "I am weary and will retire to my chambers. Think no more this. I must have had a spell; a misjudgment brought about by grief and nothing more. Forgive me, Leon."

"Ask nothing of me, for it is already forgotten, my friend. The profoundness of your sorrow is understandable, and I shall cause you no further distress. Should you need me, I will be at your services."

"I thank you." Mathias' voice was faint, and his face turned a shade paler still, though his eyes remained sharp and watchful.

Leon tried not to be troubled by his friend's change of mood and bowed his head, bidding him good night.

When he looked up, Mathias was gone.

* * *

Leon remembered the day when he stood before red-cloaked holy men, beseeching their permission to fight the creatures invading his domain a year after the death of Lady Cronqvist. Monsters he once thought were mere figments of legend set fire to his fields, butchered his livestock, and several servants. Winged hippogriffs soared through the sky; while long-dead skeletons rose from their graves and clubbed his vassal to death. The man had been out on an evening stroll, completely unaware of the creatures' presence until it was too late.

Were it not for Leon's own intervention, his estate would have been burnt to the ground. Though he forced the monsters to retreat from the Belmont's domain, the demons traversed into nearby villages attacking and stalking peasants as they went. Every night, people lived in constant fear or escaped to neighboring regions. The demons only appeared at night, came in droves, and left a path of destruction in their wake. Despite his valiance, Leon was unable to stop the monsters' nightly reappearances in his domain. The situation became critical, and he had no choice except to seek the council of his ill friend, Lord Cronqvist, who clung to life by a thread. Nary a four days after the attacks, Baron Belmont received an urgent letter from Lord Cronqvist. Leon did not want to leave amidst so much chaos and uncertainty, but Mathias insisted it was of utmost importance, and he set off for Lord Cronqvist's estate immediately.

Since Elisabetha's death, the tactician grieved deeply and succumbed to illness. Several doctors visited Lord Cronqvist and concluded that his four humors were out of balance. The doctors insisted that Lord Cronqvist had too much black bile within him, which explained the man's illness and distraught state. However, bloodletting seemed to only make Mathias' condition worse, and eventually, he was almost too weak to walk. Leon feared for his friend every day since the tactician lost his wife. He wrote Mathias often, but rarely received letters back. Sadness welled within Leon whenever he thought about his friend.

Barely a few weeks after Elisabetha's death a year ago, obligation forced Leon to return to the east – without Mathias. During his time in the desert, the dry, barren lands were more lonely and brutal than ever before. Leon fought bravely in the name of his grief-stricken friend, and his company became legendary because of their unblemished victories. Nevertheless, victory was empty without Mathias' presence, and the only thing the knight wanted was to return home. Leon felt he left Mathias when the man needed him most, all the while, Sara waited for him, never knowing if she would see him again.

It was a bitterly cold evening when he arrived at Lord Cronqvist's estate. When he walked through the entranceway, darkness enveloped him, and only candlelight illuminated the manor's stately hallways and rooms. Although exhausted from the journey, he immediately sought out Mathias. "Does Lord Cronqvist still insist that daylight never enter his home?" Leon asked the servant escorting him to Mathias' chambers.

The servant nodded gravely as they walked through the manor's dark, catacomb-like hallways. The only thing lighting their path was the servant's candlestick. The servant was a stout, red-faced woman with a firm but candid nature. His presence was undoubtedly welcome; most likely a much-needed distraction from the gloom surrounding the manor and its occupants.

"Yes, milord. Lord Cronqvist has not seen daylight since the death of his dearest." She replied, huffing and puffing as they walked. For every step Leon took, the woman had to take two extra to stay in front of him, even though the Baron was not in a hurry. As they walked, she continued:

"You might be shocked by Lord Cronqvist's looks now; he's so pale he almost blends in with the bed sheets. Poor soul can't even eat properly anymore, I swear he shan't live too long this way. Why, recently, he refused to let anyone see him at all! No one knew if he was alive or dead; the door was locked from the inside an' he ordered us to let him alone for over a week. Before that, he asked that we leave a heavy stock of food an' water in his chamber. Lord Cronqvist was terribly gloomy an' claimed us servants were disturbing his rest comin' in all the time. No one heard anything – not even a sound; I'm sure a church mouse would have been louder than milord, for the door never opened an' nothin' was requested of us. I feared he was dead, an' sent for a priest from the local monastery, for our Lord only knows what happens to a soul if it doesn't get the last rites before it leaves the body! Beg your pardon, milord, but disease hasn't been too kind to the simple folk around these parts, and we didn't know if Lord Cronqvist's condition was going to take us all with him in death or not. Lord forgive me for sayin' that, but we've got it hard enough already. The lady's death was a terrible blow, that no one disputes, an' I feel sorry for milord, he's like a songbird that's lost its mate. Whenever I see him now, he looks as if death already took him."

"I see." Leon did not know what else to say. His reply seemed feeble, and his head lowered.

"Don't you get like that now, milord!" The woman looked over her shoulder at him, her voice almost stern, though well intentioned. "We've got our hands full with one sick man; I don't think we could handle another. This place is so gloomy you needn't stay inside too long, it'll get to you if you forget there's a world beyond these walls. Beg pardon again, milord, I'm not good at keepin' me thoughts to meself, it's been so long since Lord Cronqvist allowed a visitor."

"Your concerns are understandable, and I take no offence." Leon's voice softened when they neared Mathias' chamber. Although he was in no mood for conversation, Lord Cronqvist's profound depression alarmed him.

When the servant led him before the door, she turned sharply around, her eyes meeting his. It was unusual of a person of lower standing to look nobility in the eye, but her stance was tense, and her voice lowered to a whisper. "Milord, Lord Cronqvist demands that the curtains in his room are to remain permanently closed during the daytime. Lord Cronqvist was insistent, and stated he would be very displeased if his wishes weren't respected."

"Very well," The crusader nodded acquiescently.

"An' one more thing," The woman continued, "Milord asked that only one candle light the room, he doesn't like too much light, for it makes him irritable and unable to sleep. It's very important, you see, that nothing cause milord any distress."

"I understand," Leon replied. A strange feeling of apprehension washed over him. "Do not worry, I will adhere to Lord Cronqvist's orders. Thank you for your services. You may go now."

"As you wish, Baron Belmont."

Leon stood alone in the corridor staring at the closed door in front of him. It had been scarcely more than a year since he last saw Mathias. The reunion would have been joyous, were his friend not in poor health and mourning. The knight drew a breath, feeling his shoulders tense while he slowly, and as quietly as possible, opened the door to Mathias' chambers.

The room was so dark, that if it had not been for a solitary candle on the nightstand, he would not have been able to see. The candle's soft orange light cast a dim glow across the room. Leon's azure colored eyes focused upon a thin shape lying in the bed. It took the crusader a few seconds to discern that the bed's occupant was Mathias.

The tactician was lying on his back, his hands resting lifelessly by his side, whilst thick, locks of his russet colored hair splayed across the feathered pillow on which his head rested. Leon blinked, trying to adjust to the lack of light, whilst he remained in the doorway, gazing sympathetically at the worn, fragile man who once seemed invulnerable. Despite the many battles Lord Cronqvist fought in his lifetime, grief and illness were the only opponents he was unable to defeat.

Leon stepped inside the room and seated himself in an empty chair near the tactician's bedside. The crusader's eyes widened when he caught a closer look at Lord Cronqvist. The man's skin was truly pale and devoid of its former color. For a moment, Leon feared his friend had died, for Mathias was almost statue-like in his sleep. The knight hesitantly reached out, his breath trapped inside his lungs, and lightly touched the surface of the tactician's hand. Upon brushing his fingers across Mathias' skin, a chill flooded through Leon. The pallid flesh was like that of a corpse – cold. When he tried to pull away, a deathly white hand seized his wrist.

A low, quiet voice broke the silence. "Leon…?"

Leon had difficulty associating Mathias' voice with the sickly, wan looking figure lying in the bed. Despite Lord Cronqvist's weakened state, his grip upon the knight's wrist was firm. Mathias' opaque eyes scanned him carefully, their unexpected intensity contrasting his wan exterior. At first, Leon was too stunned to move. He simply gazed upon Mathias, his blue eyes shining in the candlelight whilst distorted shadows flickered across the walls of the room. Although only seconds passed before he responded, it felt like hours, for time seemed to halt in the dimly lit chamber.

After regaining himself, Leon gently acknowledged his friend. "Yes, Lord Cronqvist, it is I. I am here, at last."

The tactician only nodded weakly. After confirming to whom the familiar voice belonged, he whispered faintly. "Then…it is not too late…"

Leon stared blankly at his friend. At first, he wondered if the man was feverish, and considered leaving to find the servant woman tending him. However, the urgency in Mathias' eyes compelled the crusader to remain by his side. Mathias' hand refused to let go of his wrist, and he did not want to distress him further. "I do not understand…" he answered. "It was not my intention to disturb you, though I am greatly worried, Mathias. We have endured so much together, and I have learned more from you than anyone else known to me. It pains me to see you ill, bedridden, and diminished of all hope and strength. Not a day goes by where I do not regret your grief and the passing of Lady Cronqvist. The church obligated me to return to the east, but I shall never journey there again if you cannot accompany me and fight by my side. I wish to stay here until you are well, but a terrible curse has befallen my domain, and I know not why-"

"I know, Leon." Mathias began, his dark eyes glinting in the shadows.

Leon almost froze, but forced his lips to move, his eyes widening. "You know?" He repeated, trying to make sense of the fact that the tactician was well aware of the events plaguing his home. He had not informed Mathias about the attacks prior to his departure but the man seemed to know everything before he could explain. The knight's face paled.

"You must listen to me," Mathias added weakly. "There is still time…precious little time…but enough, perhaps, before it is too late…" The tactician attempted to sit up, his thin frame shifting in a feeble desire to move, but his strength appeared to leave him and he fell back against the pillow. A soft groan escaped the man's lips whilst he released his hold upon the knight's wrist. Mathias' eyes were bright and alert. However, his face was solemn, for his energy was fleeting.

Leon fell silent until his friend's head rested against the pillow once more. He could not bear to see Lord Cronqvist in such a pitiable condition, but he was uncertain of how long Mathias could hold on to what little strength he had left. With a sigh, the knight replied. "I do not understand…"

"A few days before your return," Mathias began, "Lord Trantoul sent an urgent letter informing me that his daughter was abducted-"

"_Abducted_?" A gasp fled the knight's lips as he bolted from the chair. His heart thumped rapidly against his ribcage and the darkness seemed to enclose around him in that fatal moment. Sara. Abducted – by whom and why? He could not fathom why anyone would wish to harm such a gentle, loving soul as she. The young man's cerulean eyes focused upon the tactician earnestly. When the initial shock faded, anger ripped through his heart, and his voice trembled in disbelief. "How could this happen? Why did Lord Trantoul not write to me-"

"The Trantoul family was unable to contact you during your journey." Mathias shook his head, his chapped, dry lips forming into a frown. The tactician seemed indifferent to the crusader's distress; his voice did not falter in the slightest. "The three couriers sent by the Trantoul family disappeared and no one knows their whereabouts. Lord Trantoul entreated me to inform you as soon as possible."

"Why did you not simply tell me about Sara's abduction in your message?" Leon gave the tactician an incredulous glare. Although he admired Mathias' reserved disposition, he could not withhold his emotions as skillfully.

Lord Cronqvist looked away apologetically. As if sensing his friend's displeasure, he then added.

"There was more I needed to tell you. I promise, what I have to say could not be explained in a mere letter, Leon."

"Why not?" The knight retorted, trying to avoid sounding ungrateful.

Sara was gone – kidnapped by an unknown assailant – and the issue of monsters invading his domain suddenly seemed insignificant. The only thing that mattered was Sara. He feared for her more than he had feared for anything in his life, even more than himself. If there was a ransom, he would pay it without question. Perhaps, her abductor was trying to blackmail the Belmont family? But he could think of no reason why someone would attempt blackmail, since his family's honor had always been flawless in the eyes of the court and church. He wondered if perhaps, the Trantoul family had a long-standing debt, hidden scandal, or transgression that someone wished to blackmail them with. Yet, when he met Lord Trantoul, the man's honest character contradicted any doubt in his mind. However, Lady Trantoul was of an almost completely different disposition than her husband. Lady Trantoul was rarely at her husband's estate, though when she was, her flippantness often created conflict between her and her husband. But the idea that Lady Trantoul would hire someone to kidnap her own daughter made no sense, for he did not believe her to possess the cunning to do so, and Leon found himself at a loss.

"Hold your calm, and I shall explain." In an attempt to reassure him, Mathias lifted his head and tried to move. After much effort, he managed to sit up in bed, though the exertion made him breathless. Locks of long, chestnut colored hair tumbled across his shoulders, partially curtaining his face until he turned his head to look at Leon. "If you wish to find Sara, I beg you, listen to me for I may be able to provide some assistance. You were to marry Lord Trantoul's daughter immediately after your return, were you not?"

"Yes, I sent you several letters regarding our marriage." Leon sank uneasily down into his chair. Memories of Sara flooded through his mind. Just when he returned to marry at last, everything fell apart. With a sorrowful sigh, he focused upon his friend. Countless times Mathias proved his loyalty and dedication as a friend and as a tactician. Now, Leon needed Lord Cronqvist more than ever, and the man's presence somewhat consoled him. Nevertheless, the tactician's ashen skin and brooding disposition made Leon anxious. "You are too ill to travel and I did not want to proceed without your consent. You are still in mourning, and I feared disrespecting you. I was grateful for your blessing even though my heart still wished you could join me that momentous day."

"Alas, you make me regret my illness." Mathias' eyes glinted while he lifted his hand, covering his brow for a moment, until the sight of Leon's sorrowful expression urged him to refrain from delaying. "Despite my weakness, I may yet still be able to help you find Sara." When the knight merely looked at him in desperation, the tactician continued gravely. "The very same night your lady was abducted, relatives of the Trantoul clan were invited to attend the wedding, and had almost reached the estate – though tragedy intervened."

"What happened?" Leon shifted uneasily in the chair while feeling of dread ripped through him when the tactician hesitated.

"The relatives and attendants of Lord Trantoul's wife were butchered and left for dead…no witnesses remain to describe the murderer."

"What?" Leon gasped, his eyes widening into saucers from the unexpected turn of events. Everything he cared about was disintegrating before his very eyes and he felt helpless to stop it. His head lowered as he pressed a hand against his forehead in frustration and grief. "Who could have done such a thing?"

"I may have the answer you seek." Mathias' voice lowered to a whisper. The man's elegant features gleamed in the candlelight.

Upon hearing his friend's words, Leon fell completely still. Questions raced through his mind while Mathias stared at him. The man's pale face was oddly unnerving. Leon remembered sitting and talking with Mathias well into the night, right until the first rays of dawn peeked over the horizon. There was a time when Mathias smiled and laughed out of amusement over the younger knight's keen intellect and naive curiosity. Leon thought of no other man more honorable than Lord Cronqvist, though their innocent days together were long past. The knight felt no need to ask, for Mathias' cold expression revealed more grim conversation was yet to come. With a sigh, the tactician's ghostly hand reached and touched the base of Leon's chin, lifting his head, and beckoning the young man to look him in the eye. The moment Mathias touched him, it took Leon all of his willpower to avoid flinching. The tactician's skin was so cold that a shudder ran through his body, and he felt his own face lose some of its color. Mathias' penetrating opaque eyes clashed against the crusader's azure blue.

When the knight's obedience satisfied the tactician, Mathias breathed a heavy sigh. "Do you trust my judgment, Leon?"

"You have been a good friend to me, and I trust no one more." Leon answered, the confidence in his voice not feigning for an instant.

Mathias' hand slipped from the knight's chin to his neck, his fingers brushing lightly across the flawless skin of Leon's throat. "When I heard you were returning from the east, I knew you fought honorably in my stead. You have learned a great deal from me, since our company remains undefeatable, even during my absence. I believe something far more perilous will test the limits of your skills. Thus, I shall ask you only this: do you believe immortality is possible?"

"I have seen skeletons rise from their graves and walk the earth as if alive. Immortality is something I have been forced to accept as reality."

"The immortality I speak of is similar to the kind you mentioned, though not the same." Mathias almost appeared to be amused by the young man's response. The tactician struggled to lift his back off the pillow and pushed the blankets covering him away. Lord Cronqvist still wore his mourning robes. The black, silky fabric made him blend into the shadows, whilst his eerily white skin exposed his ailing health.

When the tactician shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, Leon rose from his chair and took his friend's arm to assist him. However, Mathias did not remain seated upon the edge of the bed like the knight expected, but struggled to stand. "Mathias, you should not-"

The tactician waved him away, and Leon reluctantly obeyed, though remained near in case his fragile companion collapsed. Although Mathias was thinner than before, he appeared to possess power Leon did not expect from such an ill person. Despite Mathias' surprising strength of will, the young crusader ruminated over the tactician's words whilst scanning the man's pallid complexion. Leon hurried to the wardrobe, fetched Mathias favorite black fur-lined cloak, and wrapped the garment over his friend's right shoulder, fearing he would catch a chill.

Mathias stood facing him, his dark eyes masking his thoughts. "I wish it were so, but I must tell you the truth behind the murders. When the bodies were discovered, a few of the victims, including the sister of Lord Trantoul's wife, were bitten in the neck and drained of their blood. A human did not commit this atrocity. I am almost certain a vampire is responsible."

"A vampire?" Leon froze in place. A sudden chill ran down his spine as he pictured images of undead creatures roaming about, drinking from innocents to sustain their unnatural life. "Are you certain?"

"I know nothing for certain, Leon. It is difficult to prove otherwise, even though many would deny it as truth. Lord Trantoul informed me that a few months previous, a vampire supposedly destroyed the village of Dalwood, which is very near your lady's home. The peasants in Dalwood had neck wounds akin to those of the Trantoul relatives. In addition, a young man recently disappeared when he departed to a nearby forest in search of his fiancé, who was abducted shortly after Sara – but there were no witnesses to confirm a vampire was behind it. However, there have been reports of young women in the area disappearing throughout the centuries. In one instance, a man living outside the forest returned home to his family, only to find all except his daughter slaughtered. The man still lives, and according to Lord Trantoul, claims a vampire was responsible for the deaths of his family. The villagers and Lord Trantoul refuse to believe the man, and to this day, he is wanted to be hanged as a murderer. I do not know if any of these events are connected."

"If this is true," Leon began to pace across the room, trying to collect his thoughts and rationalize a course of action. The knight ran a hand through the layers of his flaxen hair, his face paling the longer he thought of Sara's disappearance and Mathias' observations. "Then I must find the vampire responsible for these crimes and rescue Sara! But I know not her whereabouts, nor the nature of vampires themselves. How can I defeat that which cannot die?"

Mathias' dark eyes flickered. "Everything can die, Leon, including vampires. Even…Elisabetha…" In that moment, Mathias' composed expression crumbled, and his eyes professed the endless suffering in his heart. The tactician lowered his head mournfully before turning away, the curtains of his long, chestnut hair veiling his face. With slow, uneasy steps, Mathias walked toward a small round table beside one of the chamber's windows, the velvet fabric of his cloak slinking across the floor behind him. The man moved so silently Leon thought not even death itself possessed such stealth.

The tactician flipped open a book on the table, and then glanced at Leon, wordlessly inviting him to approach. "There is something I wish to show you alone, Leon." He continued, "Contained in this book is a legend that bears an uncanny resemblance to the events Lord Trantoul described in his letter to me."

Leon hurried toward the table as Mathias stepped aside, allowing him to look at the book. On one page was an etched charcoal drawing of a massive castle looming under the glow of a full moon. A thick forest surrounded the castle and made the pathway toward it almost indistinguishable. The castle's size inclined Leon to believe that, if such a structure existed, it would have taken countless centuries to build. The castle's tallest spire was so high it looked like it could touch the moon itself, and Leon doubted the etching's artist rendered it accurately. Nevertheless, while he gazed at the picture, Mathias' index finger pointed at faded handwriting on the adjacent page.

"According to the legend, a powerful vampire lives within this castle, in a forest cloaked in darkness known as _Eternal Night_. No one knows how the vampire was able to exile the sun's light from his domain. The vampire was beloved by the night, and all feared his power, lust, and insatiable desire for blood. Every fortnight, the vampire abducted a betrothed woman and invited her lover into his domain to rescue her. None who went into the forest returned…at least… according to this legend. Perhaps, the reason why the truth became legendary was humanity's own dong: war, famine, and plague may have inclined people to believe God's anger was the reason, instead of a vampire whose existence could neither be confirmed nor dismissed. Now, traces of the legend have begun to resurface, and I suspect the vampire of Eternal Night wishes for you to play his game. The appearance of the monsters in your domain was merely an invitation."

"I see." Leon examined the text before returning his attention to Mathias. The tactician stood calmly near the window, peering behind the heavy curtains at the nightscape beyond. Mathias seemed so distant, standing there, his face shadowed by gloomy thoughts. It was as if the tactician's mind lay somewhere else beyond the knight's reach. Even if he asked Mathias what he was thinking, the man would only look at him in silence and profess nothing. Leon sighed, breaking the stillness with his voice. "If you believe the vampire living in that forest is holding Sara captive, then I will go there and seek him out. I will bring my company with me, and we will fight him until Sara is released from his power."

For the first time since their meeting, a small smirk creased the corners of Mathias' lips. The tactician crossed his arms, his eyes tracing the young man's hopeful countenance with resigned empathy. When Mathias spoke, his voice acquired a sharpness Leon was not accustomed to hearing from the tactician.

"Ah, Leon, your impulsiveness shall be your own undoing. Lest you forget, the church controls our company and may not be as dedicated to your lady's safe return as you are. The church cares for nothing except its own preservation. The war in the east may incline the church to refuse your request, for war is costly, and men are prized commodities not to be wasted fighting monsters and vampires. Nay, heathens are apparently more of a concern to the church than the protection of its followers. May the souls of Christian men and women be dragged into hell by the devil's servants, but God forbid heathens, merely humans of this world, opposing the iron will of a godless institution."

Leon's shoulders sank, and he turned away, unwilling to nurture the tactician's cynicism with a response. Mathias would never forgive the death of Elisabetha. Even if Lady Cronqvist were at peace in heaven, Mathias would scorn God for sending her soul there. The knight's face became pensive as he considered the fate of Lord Cronqvist's own soul, which grief and hate consumed.

He did not want to think Mathias could not find Elisabetha in heaven because of his blasphemy.

The only thing Leon could do was hope that, one day, Mathias would regain his faith in God. "I believe the church will agree to my request, now that I have enough evidence to implore them to reconsider their decision. I must have the permission of the church to lead my company into the vampire's domain. If the cardinals refuse…I will have no choice but to do so without their permission…alone." He lifted his head, giving Mathias a sullen look. When the tactician raised his brow, he added firmly. "I have no choice. I will not abandon Sara."

Mathias broke eye contact and returned to gazing at the nightscape. Soft moonlight flooded through the parted curtain, illuminating his ashen skin. "Leon, should you decide to fight without the church's consent, you will lose everything. The church does not take kindly to unauthorized combat during wartimes. Of course, not even you will be spared punishment, despite your recent victories in the east. The cardinals will use you as an example; not even your family name and social position will protect you from their influence."

"Unless, I renounce my title." Leon whispered. Upon hearing the knight's suggestion, Mathias whirled to face him, his eyes shining in the darkness whilst the young man resumed pacing across the room, his head bowed and eyes cast upon the floor. "The church can only sanction or imprison me for disobeying them if I am a baron. If I were to…relinquish my power, I would no longer be under their authority. I would simply be Leon Belmont, equal to the rank of a peasant. No longer a knight, crusader, and baron bound by their will."

"And what will you do then?" Mathias gave him an incredulous look, and his response was more severe than Leon anticipated. "If you renounce your title, your family name will lose all of its political and social influence. Even if you rescue Sara, her father would never permit a penniless former baron who left the church to marry her. You will have nothing. Life as a peasant or a serf is almost worse than death."

"I have made my decision, Mathias." Leon looked up, and his voice was resolute. "I will do anything to save Sara. You should understand how much she means to me."

Mathias bowed his head, the long coils of his hair cascading across his shoulder blades. Though weary, the tactician's intense gaze immobilized Leon. The knight did not know whether the shadows were playing tricks upon him, but he thought to have seen a tiny smile appear across the man's lips when he replied softly.

"I understand very well indeed…"

* * *

Leon arrived before the sealed door, his bright blue eyes glistening in the cavernous ambiance. Although his onslaught through the castle's treacherous waterways was formidable, he forced himself onward. After enduring great trials, he at last managed to lower the bridge leading to a mysterious sealed red door. The young knight hastened forward. The hard steel soles of his knee-high boots clinked across the bridge's steel frame, his ears catching the sound of its hollow protest. Parts of the bridge had rusted away from time and neglect; making him wary of the possibility its unstable structure could give way. The thought of tumbling into the dark abyss beneath him haunted his thoughts. The threat of never seeing Sara again seemed grew realer when he reached the castle's deepest chasm. The waterways were a lonely place: strange sounds echoed down its gritty, dimly lit passageways.

After drawing a breath, he paused; feeling condensation and mildew clinging to his skin and clothes like the grasping hands of prisoners. The only thing that concerned him was Sara's fate. He wondered on her often, whilst he sprinted through the castle, the tails of his surcoat fluttering behind him as he bounded from one area to the next. Like a dove searching for a lost mate, his fair features and immaculate white clothing contrasted against the rasping shadows of the night. After adjusting the whip cinched to his waist belt, he touched the heavy stone door with a gleaming silver gauntlet adorning his left hand. The seal securing the door dissipated. The young man's sanguine blue eyes surveyed the door's decorative human skull.

Hideous monsters lunged and tore at him within the dank confines of the forgotten labyrinth. Strange demonic entities trailed after him, never allowing him to rest, except within the old man's cottage bordering the forested night. He tried to think of where to turn next, but his only goal was to survive and save Sara. One of his hands brushed across his forehead and wiped away the droplets of blood and dirt scarring the glistening whiteness of his fair skin. Wisps of flaxen blonde hair clung to his cheeks. He withdrew a trembling breath, trying to make sense of the death and horror surrounding him. Memories, once joyful, flooded into his mind and filled him with sorrow.

Cold droplets sprayed lightly across his clothes and skin, whilst a thunderous waterfall surged into an abyss below the steel bridge. He had only one final orb to obtain before the magic securing the door to the tower would lift. Undoubtedly, he knew Sara was praying for his safety. Anger surged through his veins when he thought of the castle's master, whose face he had not caught sight of for but a moment since his arrival. The vampire lord had not bothered to show himself; his absence revealing he was in no hurry to rush the 'game' along. Leon's eyes narrowed in irritation, though he was uncertain whether he felt so because of the creature's aloofness or because of the clamminess he felt in the subterranean waterway.

Yet, even when he seemed ever more determined to reach Sara, memories still haunted him. If Mathias were with him, he would know what to do next, instead of blindly destroying whatever obstructed his path. He envied Mathias' intrinsic ability to overcome any opponent, no matter how powerful or cunning. But he was alone; and Mathias, his trusted comrade, was ill and bedridden. When the nightmare ended - if it ever ended – he would return to Mathias and tell him of the horrors and trials he endured, and how the evils of the world made his faith in God stronger. There was no telling what awaited him in the room beyond the door. The fact that the door had been sealed and hidden warned him of another, yet more dangerous, monster ahead…

* * *

A rush of fresh cold air whistled through the cracks in the walls. The creature's sensitive ears captured the sound of footsteps shifting across the floor. The sudden blow of the door slamming did not startle the room's lone prisoner. Stillness overwhelmed the dank prison space. Though the pale form sensed the sound of his trespasser's rapid heartbeat, he did not rise to greet whoever it was. For a second, the youth wondered if Walter had returned for him, just as he had thought he would.

_Oh, how I've been waiting for you, Walter. Soon, this room will be spattered with your blood! Such a shame; I thought we could be friends, or at least part on good terms. I suppose friendship is impossible. Now I live only to kill you._

His 'guest' took a few hesitant steps forward, and remained near the door, as if trying to discern who was hiding in the shadows.

_Stupid fool. Of course it's me, Walter. Forgive the mess, I am a terrible host, and not accustomed to visitors. Do mind the blood spatter on the floor; I had to take care of a nuisance before your arrival. Have you come to apologize at last? Of course not. You never apologize for anything. Then again, neither do I..._

It was an innocent curiosity. Leon had not even motioned to draw his weapon even though he was vulnerable. For a moment, the knight remained silent, until his eyes finally observed what appeared to be someone hiding at the back of the room. Concern filtered through his cautious voice, which echoed across the empty, eerie space.

"Is someone there? Are you a prisoner here?"

The human's inquiry shattered the silence; disrupting the prisoner's brooding state.

The creature could almost feel the man's eyes scanning the room, wondering what lay in the shadows, and unable to see through them. He turned his head, glancing over his right shoulder in order to catch a glimpse at a knight peering into the enshrouding blackness. The pale demon's brow furrowed, whilst he licked his lips and swallowed, feeling a scratchy dryness in his mouth. The human's presence irritated him. No longer did a burning curiosity fill him. Rather, he sighed to himself, and clenched his hands. The jagged remains of his fingernails dug into his palms, which still held the faint scent of dried blood. He lifted his head and rose leisurely to his feet, the tails of his robes lifting gracefully off the floor. Despite the carnal thirst aching in throat, his majestic features and clothing protested against the squalor mocking his noble birthright.

The creature half-turned to look at the fool stupid enough to seek him out, replying contemptuously. "_Who are you?_" A flicker of bitter disappointment appeared within his steely, dagger-like stare upon realizing that his visitor was not the red-haired demon – but another knight who had unknowingly wandered into his own doom.

_How many games are you playing now, Walter? It seems, you shall be waiting forever upon your throne for a worthy opponent. This hero is as ill-fated as the last._

Leon stared at the strange being emerging from shadows. The pale youth held an unusual appearance and mannerism – possessing ashen colored hair and a guarded, sneering cynicism that did not correspond with a frightened, grateful prisoner he had anticipated. Something about the mysterious person emanated a subtle and unsettling air. Nothing seemed to make sense about the extraordinary man he encountered; though he wondered if the pale youth possessed an illness, for the whiteness of his hair, skin, and fragile, thin appearance was revealing. The man certainly was of noble birth, for his regal clothing expressed wealth and power, even though his wan complexion contradicted it. The pale being held the embitterment of a prisoner. Though the nobleman's eyes attempted to conceal it, profound hopelessness reflected within his gaze. Leon had never seen anything quite like this person; whose strange appearance filled him with both revolt and pity. The pale youth seemed almost bestial and predatory, for his penetrating eyes never lifted from the knight for a moment.

Satisfaction rippled through the creature when he noticed that his young visitor was taken aback by his rudeness. The shadowy creature showed little interest in conversation. It pleased him when his response enhanced the knight's concern and hesitation to depart.

The white-haired being did not appear to be a monster, despite his brusqueness. The nobleman's smooth, graceful features and placid expression was deceptively human-like. Leon remained vigilant. It was necessary to ease the tension in the most diplomatic way he could think of to in order to avoid the possibility that the person would consider him a threat. Thus, he introduced himself, hoping the strange man before him would do so in return. The white-haired person's higher social status inclined the knight to hope that his civility would ease the stranger's defensiveness.

"My name is Leon…and you are?"

Such courtesy failed to appease the pale youth. The creature paid the knight little regard, as though his visitor was of great inconvenience. The white haired being took slow steps forward, the heels of his boots echoing faintly through the darkness. When the doorway's dim torchlight illuminated him, he returned his guest's words with a cruel smile. The dim torchlight cast a shadow across his face, whilst he stared dismissively at the human, unimpressed by the knight's attempted cordiality. The nobleman noticed that the knight continued to stare at him curiously, intently observing his abnormally ashen skin and ivory hair. The pale demon despised those innocent deep blue eyes; eyes untouched by the ravages of vampirism and coldhearted desires. He was determined to rip those stunning blue eyes out of their sockets. The knight was handsome, far more than the last, and possessed an air of gentility and innocence. A peculiar whip was cinched to his visitor's waist belt like a slumbering python. Droplets of blood speckled the white tails of his surcoat, attesting to previous battles within the castle's walls.

The creature stared back the young man in challenge. Perhaps, he would introduce himself to his guest, after all. "My name…is Joachim Armster."

Leon gave him no immediate response, but his eyes remained transfixed and unblinking, as the pale creature studied the one whom was so naïve to call out for him. The young knight flinched in surprise. The man's voice was sharp, challenging, and far from what he had hoped for. A chill ran down Leon's spine as he stared unblinkingly at the strange being.

The vampire noted his visitor had soft hair of a flaxen hue parted to the left side, layered in various lengths; elongated strands waved gently around his face and annunciated an unusually pale and handsome visage. Worn over the young man's toned frame was a white sleeveless surcoat trimmed with red that split down the back into two fluttering tails. Beneath the surcoat were black skintight pants and a matching black long sleeved shirt, boasting toned muscles capable of agility and strength. Covering his right hand was a thick leather glove reaching almost the entire length of his arm, whilst an elbow length silver gauntlet on his left hand reflected in the dimly lit chamber. Every aspect of the knight was prepared to spring into battle at any given moment, as if the thought of dying did not exist in his mind, replaced instead by greater wills and fragile hopes. The creature reveled in the thought of crushing the young knight's hope in his talon-like grip. Briefly, his thoughts fancied the image of the man's naked body draped in his arms, pale, cold, and lifeless like a porcelain statuette. His skin prickled from the pleasure he would feel when he consumed the human's beautiful innocence; consummating his lust with the luscious taste of blood. He eyed the human's graceful neck peeking temptingly beneath the heavy folds of his black undershirt. The human was truly remarkable in every aspect; his brave naivety and vulnerability enticing the creature's brutal instincts. His penetrating eyes illuminated a brilliant shade of red, piercing the darkness, at last revealing his inhumanity.

Leon stepped back, his mouth agape, while the image of _what_ he was about to face began to build in his mind. The longer the creature stared at him with its glowing red eyes, the more the young knight perceived the fact that deadness consumed them. "This feeling…are you a vampire?" The knight's body abruptly tensed, though he refrained from reaching for his weapon. He did not want to believe that the being standing before him was undead.

The shadowy creature hesitated, until the meaning of the word _vampire_ sent his mind whirling back into reality. He saw how the knight's inquiring gaze remained directed upon him, seeking out the answer and perhaps, dreading the possibility he already knew. Now that the nature of the white-haired nobleman's condition was apparent, there was no reason for him to withhold the truth. He had revealed himself deliberately. A flicker of malicious delight appeared in the creature's eyes, whilst he shot a dagger-like glare at his "guest." The human did not understand. No one understood but him, the brutal power he obtained through vampirism. He would use his powers to defeat Walter and then – at last – he would rule Eternal Night. Though he knew not exactly why, he was proud of what he had become. His former self – the weak, pitiful, sickly, human he once was, died that fateful night when he was turned. The sniveling and remorseful part of him could no longer haunt him with shame and compassion. Though he was delighted by the prospect of obtaining blood, not even the human's attractive appearance could hinder his revulsion. Disgust filled every fiber of his being as he stared hatefully at the mortal before him. Human life was fragile; in an instant he could snatch it away with nary the wave of a hand. The human had no right to be speaking with him, but even vampires needed company, and his desire for a distraction overcame his instincts.

The pale demon's lips curled, and he snapped in disgust. "That's right, lowly human."

The wretched creature's eyes narrowed. How so very different and so very alike they were! The knight was undoubtedly of noble birth, like himself. However, as far as he was concerned, nobility was the only thing he had in common with human ilk. However, the human's next question caught him off guard. He had not expected the young man to return his insult with inquiry.

"Then why is a vampire locked away here?" Leon's voice expressed no condemnation. Though he knew not why, he felt that the creature before him hid vulnerability and fear beneath an insipid, callous mask. It did not seem right to attack such a wretched creature. There was something pitiful about the pale demon, which resembled that of an abused, trapped animal. When the young nobleman spoke, Leon could see the points of his wolf-like fangs gleaming eerily in the shadows, accentuated by finely tipped ears and a loathsome demeanor. The knight suspected that the fiend's ill temperament was unpredictable and dangerous. His patience seemed to incense the white-haired being further.

Without warning, the demon bared its fangs, and snapped."Shut up!" The vampire threw up his hand, the gesture initially appearing like a motion to strike the knight, rather than silence him. Rage filled the young nobleman when he reflected upon his defeat; which throbbed inside him like a raw wound. He could not bear the fact he _lost_ to Walter. The humiliation of his banishment was unforgotten; an eternity could pass and he would still remember his fall from freedom.

_How dare he question me! Of course, this useless pest doesn't know who imprisoned me. Walter abandoned me to die in this filthy pit! I am the superior power, more worthy than he of controlling the night, and yet I was condemned! Everything I was - a lord, ruler, heir – gone! _

_All because of that stupid rock! That wretched little gem Walter keeps close to him like a harlot with a coin purse!_

Without thinking, the white-haired youth began to pace across the room, his eyes glaring upon the knight with a wish to drive one of his swords through his throat. In his anger, he almost forgot about Leon. "_Damn Walter_! I would've won, were it not for his ebony stone!" his enraged voice shouted against the room's echoing walls, and so audibly did he announce his hatred that he barely heard the trespasser's curious question.

"Ebony stone? What's that?"

Leon's eyes widened in childlike wonderment, but the second he attempted to approach, the vampire emitted a feral hiss and recoiled into the shadows. The knight cocked his head, confused by the creature's explosive temperament. Nothing the pale demon said seemed to make any sense. The creature seemed to be talking to itself more than him. The prisoner's erratic pacing and hissing voice made Leon fall into an uneasy silence. He could not understand why the creature told him such strange things. Despair washed across the pale demon's face, which made the knight feel a sudden urgency to understand the secrets concealed beneath such a wan exterior. The vampire somehow knew Walter Bernhard. The hatred in its voice attested to the fact that, whatever past existed between them had ended tragically. But what crime had the white-hated vampire committed to deserve eternal isolation? Leon wondered if the creature was as dangerous and bloodthirsty – if not more so – than Walter. A prison trapped his opponent within the darkest confines of the castle, which seemed to reveal the possibility that a much darker history surrounded the young nobleman of the water prison.

The vampire bared his fangs. He clenched his hands into fists, feeling his lips quiver as he contemplated his unfortunate situation. His imprisonment in the waterways was merely a setback; nothing would stop him, not even the wrath of hell itself – and certainly not a pathetic human. But he wondered on the human's uncanny thirst for knowledge. Something about his unexpected visitor was different from the last, and every other human he had encountered. The young knight did not shout insults or religious scripture at him; nor did he draw his weapon and rush in to attack. The human knew he was a vampire but abstained from combat. He could not fathom why the human did not rebuke him instantly. _Why_ was this particular human so different from the rest? _Who_ was that knight? The night dweller desperately fought to remember. The name, _Leon_…he had heard it from somewhere…or perhaps…from _someone_…

Leon watched the figure lift his head with broken dignity. Such a display inclined the knight to inquire further, in spite of the vampire's growing aggression. "Tell me, how long have you been here? Did Walter…turn you?" Leon was determined not to leave until he received an answer. Whatever information he could obtain from the rebellious nobleman might help him find Sara before it was too late.

"I have been here long enough. The only way you could possibly help me…" The creature's voice faded into low audible chuckles, his lips parting back to reveal his gleaming incisors flashing like knives in the darkness. "…is if you die." He withdrew a deep breath, feeling his entire body bristle under the knight's sympathetic gaze. "Enough questions! You have come here to _slay_ me. I can tell by your attire you are one of the many misguided crusaders, one who searches for salvation but finds a vampire instead."

"I have come in search of an emerald orb connected to this place. I need the orb to open the sealed door to the tower. If it is your desire to be let alone, I pray you, will I find it here? If not, I will leave you as you were." Leon's gaze remained fixed upon the vampire. The creature abruptly tensed upon hearing his request. "Who imprisoned you in this place?" The knight asked, daring the strange being to respond. The vampire was like the piece of a puzzle that refused to fit into place.

The creature gave the human a sardonic grin, his eyes flickering in the shadows whilst he continued to observe the knight, like a wolf sizing up a rival. Some part of him admired and detested the human's unwavering willpower. He suspected that, in the mind of his unfortunate visitor, the presence of a vampire in the waterways was surprising. Nevertheless, amidst the haze of his rage, his thoughts pieced together vague remnants of the past. The carnal, bestial urges controlling him relented; allowing him to discern that Walter had anticipated the crusader's arrival. The name: _Leon Belmont_ was more familiar than he initially realized. However, the thirst inside him was growing stronger, and he felt it urge him to ravage the supple flesh of the young man's throat. Desperate, he attempted to restrain himself without the human noticing his waning self-control. He repeated the human's name in his mind, trying to understand why it was recognizable.

Suddenly, her beautiful face entered his vision. Soft blue eyes and wavelets of long, chestnut colored hair framed the delicate, fair face of a young woman. A gentle smile pressed across her lips, and a familiar warmth overcame his emptiness. Briefly, so very briefly, he _knew_ her. She was beautiful – and the sound of her voice once made him forget his woes. Yet, his remembrance of her sent tremors of pain, anger, and grief through his soul. He longed for her; for he could feel her presence growing fainter every moment. He was trapped within the prison, unable to reach her and unable to save her. The knight was none other than her betrothed…_Leon Belmont_. The proud and noble heir to the Belmont clan cast into the foray between life and death; mortal and immortal, deliverance and damnation.

Despair awaited Baron Belmont the moment he arrived at Eternal Night, for he was unaware of his lady's fate. Painful memories plagued the vampire to the point of madness; he could not ignore the futility of the knight's quest. "You are Lady Trantoul's betrothed…" he whispered, abstaining from answering the young man's questions deliberately. "You must love Sara dearly to risk your life." His words threatened to reveal her fate, and he refrained from continuing. The thought of her becoming like_ him_ was too much to bear.

"How do you know Sara?" Leon cried out, his bright blue eyes widening in both surprise and urgency. The knight stepped forward, hoping that the vampire would reveal more. Like many of Walter's previous victims, both his weakness and strength unknowingly lay in love. "Is Sara all right? Does she know I am here, and that I am trying to save her?"

The vampire slowly shook his head, his eyes curtained by the soft strands of his snow-white hair falling against dead flesh. "Foolish human, your incessant questions are wasting my time!"

The young nobleman stepped forward, only to discover that the human did not recoil in fear, but merely stood, looking at him inquisitively. The creature huffed, his lower lip curling as he gazed into the human's widening eyes, while feeling his own threaten to well with tears. It seemed like an eternity since he heard her name. The sound, the beautiful implication of the woman's very name, impaled his wounded heart like a thousand knives. The human was trying remind him of his loss and prevent him from seeking out his master's life! And, most unforgivably of all, would be the human's discovery of his betrothed. The beautiful creature, whose angelical face still existed within his memory – turned into a monstrous demon, devoid of all love and unable to remember her human self. Corrupted by the vampire lord's bite; her innocence would be washed away from the world, whilst he remained trapped in the waterways, eternally mourning her suffering. However, he wondered also, whether the knight would strike her down for being what she was – a vampire, even though her fate was by no fault or will of her own. If the knight defeated him, he could not protect her from the cruelty of humans. Yet, within himself, he knew she would not want to live forever hunting and taking the lives of human beings. Memory was a precious gift that deteriorated when the curse took hold. But the thought of the knight harming her – _killing_ her – enraged him. Unwilling to tolerate the threat of defeat, the pale youth gnashed his incisors, his eyes flashing with a will to tear the knight to shreds with the savagery of a beast.

"To think, I thought you would want to spend the last moments of your life in prayer, rather than talking to a vampire! " The creature flicked his hand, his eyes burning like hellish chasms through the darkness.

Leon realized he had unintentionally trapped himself inside a room with a vampire, whose rage and hatred made him beyond reason or control. He could almost feel the night dweller's anger rising each passing moment. The knight's lips pursed whilst he countered thoughtfully. "Time? What is there to do in a place like this, an empty room filled with nothing but shadows?"

"Considering you have joined me, what do you think?" The vampire chuckled with delight, the sound rising into wild, uncontrollable laugher. The knight's predicament amused him; how he would enjoy tearing him apart limb from limb! "I shall not be slain by a human's filthy hand! Your arrival here has sealed your fate, _Baron Belmont._"

Leon stepped forward, his face a mask of horror and surprise. "How do you know my surname?"

The creature's flickering scarlet eyes intensified as he smirked. The young nobleman padded forward, closing the gap between him and his prey. He watched the knight's frame tense, noting that his victim's breath hitched when he snapped. "You have no right to question me, human! Your lady awaits, though tragically, you shall not see her. If you intend to challenge the master of this castle, you are sorely mistaken. The privilege of slaying Walter is _mine_!"

Intensity appeared within Leon's eyes as he looked at the pale specter, his curiosity slowly transforming into apprehension. The knight pressed a hand across his brow, his eyes focusing upon the vampire as he fought to restrain his growing impatience. "Tell me if Sara is all right! I swear, should you have caused her harm-"

The pale demon began to pace about the room, his penetrating eyes never leaving the human for an instant. Hunger began to gnaw like an incessant parasite draining his willpower. Human conversation seemed utterly pointless. "_If you want to know…_" With a swift glance at his swords, he threw his head back and lifted his hands, clenching his fingers as his mind attempted to regain enough psychic power to make them move.

A thin sound of slicing of metal cut through the air, from the force his mind exerted upon all five of the rusting swords in unison to wrench them out of the ground. "_BEAT ME!_" He shouted the exact moment his mind connected with the blades. The weapons shot out of the ground, eager to obey their master's summon. The swords twirled in the air, and moved around him with their blood-stained metal blades angled downward. The dim greenish glow surrounding the deadly instruments cast an eerie light across the dark prison. The swords whirled rapidly around him, increasing their velocity with each encirclement. The sight of the blades rotating in their clockwise pattern and the smell of dried blood caked upon their tips, sent ripples of delight through the young nobleman's veins. After he exterminated the human vermin, he would seek a way out of his prison, and kill anything that attempted to impede him from taking his rightful place on the throne of Eternal Night. So greatly did he anticipate victory, that for a second, he assumed the battle between he and the knight was already won.

Sooner than the vampire lord expected, vengeance would be his and the suffering he endured would end. He was not like Walter; content with ruling Eternal Night, biding time playing cat-and-mouse games with mortals. Humans were beneath him, and he reviled them as though they were cockroaches to be crushed beneath the sole of his boot. There would be no more games. With the Ebony Stone, he would envelop the whole land in darkness and allow the creatures of the night to roam as they pleased, and whatever befell humankind would be of no consequence. Walter believed he was the ruler of the night, for his iron-fist and clever ploys had won him many battles and rewards. However, centuries spent bored and devoid of the thrill of power had made the red-haired demon careless.

Walter did not realize that his brutality created an even greater monster, one so wicked and merciless that even its former master could not contain it. Although Walter once nurtured and protected the pale youth, the imprisoned nobleman was haunted by memories of suffering, torture, and degradation. A soul, once full of life and promise, had been tainted and ruined. He looked forward to tearing his fangs into his master's neck and puncturing the jugular, whilst blood rushed down his throat. The sound of his wild, unabated laughter would resonate through the room until the former lord of the night fell in a crumpled heap at his feet. He would tear away the demon's armored plating as the vampire lord writhed on the floor. Then, finally, he would impale one of his swords through the heart of the one he loathed more than the devil himself. Blood would pool on the floor; a sacrifice the pale nobleman would greedily accept in exchange for his stolen humanity.

The prisoner tilted his head, looking at the dark ceiling above, his lips pressed into a cruel smirk as if Walter himself could hear him. "It'll be a nice prelude to defeating Walter…" Although his mind was set, his gaze lingered uncertainly upon the stunned knight, who still seemed reluctant to spring into battle. His vicious yearning for combat and blood overcame his desire to spare the man who risked his life for the woman he, too, longed to save.

Leon blinked several times in the dark room, his mouth opened as if to speak but no words fled his lips. He watched the vampire's erratic behavior, knowing it was impossible for him to leave without becoming involved in a sortie with the undead. Nevertheless, his true goal was rescuing Sara, not risking unnecessary injuries that could prevent him from confronting Walter. "What purpose is there in fighting?" He asked. "My enemy is no different than your own – Walter. It seems you wish to defeat him as I do. Though I did not think the master of this castle would spare the life of anyone who challenged him."

The knight withdrew a breath and waited, however his hopeful face fell when the white-haired youth lifted his arm and pointed his index finger in challenge. "Walter and I have unfinished business, and I don't want anyone to interfere. You are a knight, and you exist for battle! If you refuse, it will make the pleasure of killing you far easier than I expected. You're just a human, after all."

"I don't want to fight you!"

Leon's hand touched the whip at his waist belt. The crusader's eyes widened as unavoidable conflict sought to again entrap him. For too long, he had fought for one cause or another until he no longer knew the true purpose of his efforts. War - and its heartbreak and devastation - destroyed everything except his love for Sara. Sara was all he knew, and all that remained of his hope for something more than bloodshed and violence. More than anything, he desired to see her once again, to tell her that he had not abandoned her. Even Mathias was not immune to the devastation of war and death. Leon understood the horror of the vampire's curse when he stared at the young nobleman of the water prison, feeling the former human's hatred prickling through his mind. Though Leon knew not the circumstances behind the pale demon's fallen state, he refused to believe that the vampire was completely devoid of humanity. It was not in the crusader's nature to enjoy killing. Whenever he killed, a part of him died also.

"You were human." Leon whispered as he gazed into the demon's furious eyes. "I can tell by your clothing you descended from nobility. So, this what becomes of those who are turned..."

For a moment, the vampire hesitated. Amidst the incomprehensible rage flowing through him, the remaining threads of his conscience urged him to reconsider. But he would not, for luscious blood flowed through the human's veins, which he needed to become strong again. "And you will soon know what becomes of those who lose to me." He sneered.

"No, I will not." Leon retorted, ignoring the vampire's attempt to berate and distract him.

"It's difficult to look upon you, now that I see the truth of your depravity. I pity you, one scorned and forgotten by the world. I cannot hate you."

The red glow faded, and when his glinting pale irises clashed against Leon's deep blue, his voice rose to a scream of outrage. "_I'll beat you…to a PULP!_" Adrenaline ran through his withered veins as he prepared for battle. However, Leon's reference to his own humanity startled him. Although the human's death was inevitable, he paused but a moment, his voice lowering. "If you knew the horrors I committed, you would despise me. Walter is partly to blame; he turned me into a fiend…a vampire. Nevertheless, like him, I will enjoy killing the pathetic humans who trespass within my realm once the Ebony Stone is in my grasp."

The creature summoned his powers and allowed himself to levitate above the floor. Despite his repugnance, his powers were sorely lacking in his weakened state. His unquenched thirst for blood made his energies low and undisciplined. Yet when his piercing gaze drove deep beneath Leon's flesh, his eyes caught sight of numerous blood veins and arteries, allowing him to have a glimpse of the red essence flowing through the human's circulatory system. He had no other option – he would have to use every ounce of his powers to defeat his opponent, no matter what the personal cost. Unwilling to concede, he closed his eyes and focused his mind, summoning his inner strength and dividing it. The vampire channeled the energy around the room, and in unison to his focused thoughts, three blue orbs developed in front of each sword-wielding statue. Although the fragile orbs were his central source of power, all would be under his command and kept in three separate corners of the room. Even if the knight tried breaking all of the orbs, the room's lack of space would enable the creature to take down his opponent almost effortlessly, even though he would be considerably more vulnerable. Like a mouse trapped in a box, the crusader was doomed before the battle began.

Mathias' psychic barrier technique had proved useful, and the pale nobleman had no other option except to reign victorious and find a way out of the prison. The only thing standing between he and the door was his untimely competitor, none other than a weak human whose kind he had killed numerous times before. There was something oddly unnerving about Leon, however, for the knight appeared unfazed by his challenge, and ready to confront the possibility of death. The pale demon despised his opponent's strength, which he lacked when he was human. By dividing his powers, he could enhance his telekinetic abilities enough to shield himself behind a psychic barrier. There was nothing left for him to lose except his life, which he did not intend to give up easily.

Leon's gloved hand trailed to the cobalt colored whip secured at his side. His fingers enclosed around its coils before he yanked the object free and broke the stagnant air with a loud crack. The the tails of his whip struck the solid stone floor. His lips curved into a frown, and his eyes focused upon the levitating vampire, who snarled when the whip narrowly missed his face.

With an exasperated sigh, Leon's hand tightened around the handle of the whip. "You leave me no choice, then. I do not wish to harm you, but I will not die without a fight, either. Sara needs me and I cannot fail her. You have been reduced to a demon…and I pity you." Leon raised his head and stared the vampire in the eyes, while his feet stepped boldly forward, and the shadows swallowed him."Your fate is no fault of your own. If Walter is cruel enough to imprison you in this place, I shall remember your suffering, and punish him for the crimes he committed upon your soul. I ask you again to reconsider!"

An infuriated glare met the knight's valiant approach, as the creature's terse expression deepened. The vampire glided forward and bared his fangs. He saw the young man raise his hand containing the whip back and flick it forward, attempting to strike the vampire, but only to be blocked by the telekinetic shield surrounding him. "_Stupid human!_" The pale demon dismissed the attack with a broad smirk, his eyes delighting in the wave of surprise washing across Leon's face when he staggered back. The vampire used the knight's surprise his advantage, and with a proud chuckle, concentrated his returned attack on the ground itself, so that five enormous glowing golden blades projected upward from the earth. Leon back flipped to avoid one of the giant blades so near it might have struck him through the leg.

The nobleman swooped around Leon like a vulture, his eyes following the knight's movements with razor-sharp accuracy. With another shout, the vampire summoned his powers, and formed two red and blue symbols. He moved one of the symbols over the ground beneath the knight's feet, while the other symbol remained on the ground beneath his floating form. Within his mind, his telekinetic powers summoned a portal, drawing the swords surrounding him into the vortex.

Leon's gaze immediately fell upon the ground, where he caught sight of the strange moving circular symbol glowing around his feet. His eyes shot upward, and he noticed the vampire's swords suddenly disappear. Not a moment later, a glint of metal caught his eye, and he

doubled back when the strange symbol sent each of the five blades flying upward in unison through the vortex. He felt the swords breeze by his face, and leapt backward toward the wall, narrowly avoiding the weapons impaling him.

The five swords flew away and resumed encircling their master once again until the pale demon's thoughts commanded them to fall still. A frustrated growl vibrated through his throat when he failed to injure his intended target. The human was proving more difficult to exterminate than he anticipated. Perhaps, he had underestimated his opponent, but the idea seemed ludicrous. No human had ever challenged him and won, and none ever would.

"Apparently, killing you is going to be more fun than I thought," The pale youth sneered, chuckling to himself, even though the human's persistence failed to amuse him. A shadow appeared across his face as he stared at his opponent in the eye, his gaze steely and vindictive. Though he smirked, his expression was bitter, for his anger raged inside him like a caged beast. He held his head high. The nobleman's damp white skin gleamed eerily in the darkness, giving him a specter-like appearance. "I would admire your bravery, if you were not going to die in spite of it. Imagine! You think you can defeat _me_, one superior to you in every way? Foolish human, I should have expected no less."

With a bitter shout, the prisoner raised the swords around him higher, so that their blades pointed directly outward, until he forced them to spin around him like a saw blade to slice the young man apart limb from limb. He flew directly toward Leon and gathered his power to strike. The second Leon saw the vampire approaching, he raised his gauntlet just in time to feel the force of the swords strike against it and send him skidding backward into the wall. For a brief moment, he watched the vampire circle at a distance, the blades still whirling rapidly around his body, before charging once again in a second attempt to attack. Leon ducked and rolled along the wall, avoiding the blade's deadly points by mere inches. When he jumped to his feet, he realized he had rolled straight into one of the room's corners where a wall blocked him on either angle - cornering him.

With nowhere else to turn, a bright bluish light hovering above attracted his attention and he looked up, sighting a strange glowing orb suspended in the air. As the vampire lunged upon him, Leon noticed two other orbs hovering in the opposite corners of the room. With god-like agility, the knight lifted his arm back and blocked the onslaught of swords with an ear-splitting crack of the whip. The force of the blow staggered his undead opponent. "I will do anything for Sara," he breathed, his voice firming when he thought of her praying for his safety despite her own peril. "I came here to rescue her from vampires like you. You leave me no choice except to fight, and I will, for her alone and for others who may fall victim to Lord Bernhard's whims – and yours. You, too, suffered under this castle's master, and should above all understand. Yet, hated blinds you to your own follies, which in the end, will grant you nothing but despair."

The pale demon's eyes blazed when the crusader's whip forced him backward, though under his barrier's protection, he did not sustain any injuries. Proud, maniacal laughter sounded from the white-haired youth's throat, his voice echoing through the enclosed space. "Vampires like me?" He hissed through gritted teeth, barely able to contain the rage and impatience in his voice, which trembled from the knight's suggestion. "Don't even think about comparing me to Walter, vermin! For that, I will make sure your death is a slow and painful one."

"Why do you want to fight me?" Leon replied while lifting his arm back, readying his whip defensively. Though his expression was firm, his voice held its calm.

The vampire tossed his head, his ashen hair splaying across his shoulders and cheeks. With a huff, he bared his fangs, his voice rising to a shout. "Because I want you to _die_. The only useful human, is a dead one. Indeed, you will be of great use to me Baron Belmont, when I drive my fangs into your wretched throat and consume your blood. I am certain, you will have no pity for me when I drain the life from you and leave your corpse to rot in this filthy pit." With a sardonic grin, the creature waved his hands, and forced the ground to split around the crusader's feet.

Jagged glowing cracks appeared in the earth. Leon dashed out of the way as a blazing array of flames erupted from the crevices in the floor. However, the knight could not ignore the conspicuous, glowing orb floating in the corner. The glowing orb was so near, so markedly close, that Leon could not overlook the fact that the white-haired being was attempting to coerce him away from it. With no other options left, the knight's eyes narrowed. Leon lunged toward the orb, whip in hand, and struck the orb relentlessly until it shattered.

The pale demon felt a jolt flood through his body, and every part of him shuddered as one of the orbs vanished into oblivion. The barrier around him remained intact. A deafening scream erupted from the vampire's throat, for the knight knew his only vulnerability, and if he did not protect the remaining two orbs, he would be defenseless against Leon's attacks. The white-haired youth whirled, following his opponent's movements. The knight ran along the back wall of the room toward an orb in the adjacent corner. Desperately, the vampire followed suit, and summoned his swords. The human was more of a threat than he appeared, and for the first time, uncertainty eroded his confidence. The tails of the creature's long, bloodstained robes unfurled behind him as he swept after his prey, unwilling to allow the knight another opportunity to best him. He shouted curses at the crusader, clenching his hands into firsts, before commanding his swords to project from the earth. Five, massive glowing blades shot upward from the ground, their razor-sharp edges capable of severing a man's limbs instantly.

Leon remained undeterred by the massive glowing projections. With as much agility as he could muster, the knight rolled, and managed to get around them by nary a thread. The orb was almost within reach, if only he could get to it before one of the vampire's swords cut him down. Leon skidded to a halt when blazing flames erupted around the orb he sought, and glanced over his shoulder to see the levitating creature smirking at him warningly, while readying his swords to attack. The demon's central sword rose up, its former greenish light turning ominous red, with its tip pointed directly at the crusader's head. Leon plunged his hand into the pocket of his robe, grasping the furry shape of the wolf's foot, and summoned its power.

A spiral of whirling wind surrounded the knight and his feet felt so light that nothing seemed able to match his speed. With the agility of a rabbit, the knight dashed toward the glowing object and back flipped in time to avoid the vampire's sword. The weapon's sharp blade hit the wall behind him next to the orb, wedging itself into the stone. With little time to get to the orb before the creature summoned another sword, Leon raised his arm back, readying the whip to strike the glowing sphere just above him.

"_No!_" The pale nobleman shouted and waved his hands, prying the sword out of the wall with his mind just as the knight leapt into the air. The human's graceful ascent reflected the very image of an angel, with shimmering flaxen locks and clothes of pure white. Leon's appearance momentarily stunned the prisoner until he saw the human's icy whip lash the glowing orb. The spherical source of energy sparked under the horrendous strain inflicted upon it, and with only a few blows from the knight's whip, it shattered to pieces.

"_This can't be!_" The pale nobleman's enraged shouting echoed off the room's narrow walls, whilst he reeled backward with a feral snarl. "_Impossible! I look forward to reducing you to a bloodless corpse!_"

Leon paid the threats no heed and landed nimbly into a kneeling position, his cerulean eyes locking upon the infuriated creature warily. He still had enough energy left in the wolf's foot to make it to the orb in the corner across the room. Without hesitating, he jumped to his feet and bolted toward the remaining sphere. He would have to run almost directly past the vampire, and the risk of losing his life to the demon's merciless swords was a strong possibility. But he had no choice, for the vampire levitated in the middle of the room to attack him no matter which direction he went. The tails of his surcoat flagged behind him, and while he ran, his body became a mere blur, aided by the god-like swiftness of the wolf's foot.

The vampire's mouth gaped as he hurtled toward the human, catching sight of the whip's long tails flying through the air in a blue blur. He rushed after the mortal as swiftly as his levitation would allow, whilst his eyes radiated a shade of brilliant scarlet. If he did not kill the knight he would be defenseless. The psychic barrier surrounding him would shatter under the force of Leon's whip. The sudden loss of his telekinetic connection to the orbs could render him unconscious if his concentration became too weak. Anger festered within him as he drifted toward the vulnerable orb, his head lowering, whilst he summoned one of his swords. With the flick of a hand, he sent the weapon careening toward his opponent, just before the knight was about to jump to hit the orb with his whip. A low chuckle vibrated within the pale demon's throat when a cry of pain echoed through the room.

Leon caught sight of the weapon as it flew toward him, and managed to spin around to block it with his enchanted gauntlet. However, his attempt to shield himself was a few seconds too late, and the weapon's blade nicked the side of his shoulder as it flew past him. Even though the knight avoided being fatally wounded, the sword's razor-sharp edge still injured him greatly. A gasp fled the crusader's lips as his other hand, still grasping the coiled whip, clamped over the wound in his shoulder. Blood seeped between his gloved fingers and tricked down his arm, staining the silver gauntlet crimson. Fortunately, the attack did not injure the arm he used to control the whip.

The young nobleman raised his head high, invigorated by the scent of human blood. It would only be a matter of moments before he would impale his swords through the knight like needles in a pincushion. He smirked in delight; his eyes hungrily focused on the crusader's bloody shoulder. The sight of Leon's pain aroused him, and he longed to feast upon the human's gorgeous neck while pillaging him of his innocence. The ruinous ecstasy he would receive from his prey would be worth the effort it took to kill him. The creature giggled when the human's azure eyes locked against his, challenging the vampire to do his worst, and knowing that he would.

Leon could feel the creature devouring his agony but remained calm. If he did not do something drastic soon, the demon's swords would be upon him yet again. He had to destroy the vampire's barrier, but the orb seemed so far away, even though the attack stopped him within meters of it. He had no power left to use the wolf's foot. However, when he defeated the undead parasite, a succubus and medusa, they left strange orbs behind that gave him additional abilities, especially if he combined their orbs with holy weapons. Leon summoned the power of the blue orb with his mind as he reached for his waist belt, removing a small jar filled with luminous blue water. He felt the power of the blue orb surround the object. When the vampire swept toward him, commanding one of his swords to rise up to attack, Leon threw the jar in front of him. The glass jar hit the ground and shattered, causing a line of white-blue fire to explode at the approaching demon.

The creature recoiled, hissing and gnashing his teeth, effortlessly floating out of the blue fire's path. Leon withdrew another jar of holy water and threw it directly at the white-haired nobleman. The jar ricochet off the barrier and broke upon hitting the ground, though the force of the fire it created sent the creature hurtling across the room. The white-haired demon's back hit the wall, knocking him to the ground. Not even the barrier could fully protect him from holy water. The room began to spin, whilst he tried to get up, wheezing and gasping. His skin seared in agony, and he could barely breathe. Waves of silky white hair fell around his face and shoulders as he struggled to rise. His power was weakening, and it was difficult for him to recover quickly.

It seemed so long since the prisoner last tasted blood. Starvation made him desperate; he could not afford to lose or else the thirst would consume his remaining strength. Victory was slipping away from him. He was hungry, so very hungry, and exhausted. What did the knight know of misery and suffering? If he did not fight for his life, he would die trapped in the sordid room; the memory of his existence forgotten by all, perhaps even Walter. The one who damned him to the waterways would never know his pain and torment. The waterways broke his spirit, heart, and mind. Always, others rebuked and condemned him. The thirst tortured him until he no longer knew himself. The knight did not understand he had no choice except to fight. But if he won, the door to his prison would never open, and the world beyond would always be out of reach. Yet, if he lost…death would take his soul, and he would never know the world again. Either way, he was doomed.

Anger surged through his veins, making his eyes flash red, whilst he seethed. "If I die, may you join me in death as well, human!"

Leon raised the whip, and with a firm crack upward, shattered the orb to pieces in a single well-aimed strike. He had finally destroyed the last orb, and the vampire would no longer be able to defend himself against him. He would have to get in close to attack while avoiding the creature's onslaughts. Without thinking, he ran toward the floating creature and lifted his arm back, ready to meet the vampire in death should he not survive. But the possibility of dying was no longer on Leon's mind. He only thought of Sara, the woman he loved, waiting for him. The young nobleman of the water prison somehow knew her, and it pained him to know he might never know the circumstances of their meeting.

The pale youth emitted a shout of rage so loud the room shook, and in dire frenzy he conjured as many golden swords through the floor as he could, frantically trying to prevent the knight from reaching him. However, the knight swung his arm rapidly side to side, increasing the whip's striking distance. The attack was slower but far more powerful. Within moments, the whip's frozen blue tails penetrated his barrier. The swords, once floating protectively around him, scattered across floor. His eyes widened and he bared his fangs, hissing through his gritted teeth until he saw the man's arm fly back, unveiling the whirling blur of the whip, which came down mercilessly upon his unguarded body.

The vampire roared in rage and pain as the weapon struck his chest with such force that he fell back against the wall. He attempted to summon the golden swords from the earth, hoping the knight would be too preoccupied to dodge them. Leon moved with unparalleled speed, his feet barely touching the ground as he swung the whip, evading the deadly glowing swords with lightning speed. As the whip struck the white-haired nobleman, a flurry of ice emanated from the whip, freezing and numbing his senses. The unforgiving ice reminded him of his weaker human years when he was kept locked inside from winter fevers, forced to lay on his bed and watch the snowflakes fall beyond frosted windowpanes. Shudders reaped through his entire bodybut he could not fully block the knight's attacks.

Leon swung his arm again and struck the vampire across the shoulder with the tails of his whip. He raised the weapon and brought it down upon the creature in quick, multiple strikes. "So, I am not a lowly human after all!" he chided amidst the creature's anguished screams. "I see ice is your weakness! Not only that, but your barrier has been compromised. What shall you do now, vampire? I don't want to kill you, for I would receive no pleasure from it." Leon watched the pale being's expression become further entrenched in anger. The creature's bitter glowing red eyes bore unforgiving into his. In a matter of moments, sheets of ice covered the floor, and the temperature in the room dropped. Leon could see his breath puffing into the darkness, though the cold did not hinder him as much as his undead opponent.

The vampire coughed up a spurt of blood when the whip struck him across the side of his face. The whip lashed upon him like the sting of a cobra, immobilizing him so that he could hardly move to counter attack. Although he was weak, his eyes blazed when his lips parted and choked out the hatred in his heart. "I will not let you defeat me!" Furious, he flew away from the knight and summoned his swords, urgently commanding them to aid him. _Cover me! _The swords obediently sprang up from the ground and returned to him, orbiting slowly around him until his mind sent each blade into the wall behind him. The embedded swords ascended upward toward the ceiling. With a cry, he leapt upon the lowest sword, balancing the soles of his boots on its metal blade before leaping to the one above it, and then the next, until he balanced himself upon the blade closest to the ceiling. As he expected, Leon ran toward him, ready to strike with the whip. As the knight crossed the room, the white-haired demon leapt off his sword and flew to meet him, his indigo robes flying around him like a bird of prey unfolding its wings.

The demon succeeded in knocking Leon to the ground. Pain filled every fiber of his body as he lay there, unable to move, whilst the creature loomed above him. Adrenaline rushed through the knight when instinctively sprang to his feet, only to feel the sting of the creature's hand across his face. The demon's broken nails raked his cheek and the side of his neck, cutting the fair flesh with horrifying accuracy. Leon immediately countered with the whip and swung his arm back, bringing the tails of the weapon across the creature's face.

The whip of ice stung the vampire's flesh and froze every part of his body. Despite the agony he felt, he was so cold he did not realize his lips trembled when he cried out. "I am not the same as the many monsters you have faced! I was not a demon! I was…" At that moment, his voice failed him when the whip struck him again across the face, sending a spray of blood spattering into the air. With no will left to fight, he staggered back, clutching a hand to his breastplate.

His pale blue eyes locked with Leon's, and his voice was overwhelmed by pain. "I was..."

The young nobleman's hands trembled, and he resigned himself to his fate when the tails of the whip coiled around his neck, nearly suffocating him. From the corner of his eye, he saw the knight pull back, tightening the whip until he dragged the thrashing creature down to his knees like an animal. Amidst his agony, the pale nobleman grasped the freezing coils of the whip, attempting to wrench it away. A lightheadedness he began to feel overcame his efforts. His hands felt numb and he could barely move. Desperate, he forced himself to speak, choking out the words. "I was…a _human being_. I am…_Joachim Armster_."

After a moment of silence, the whip's strain around his neck released, and his heaving body collapsed onto the floor. Silence enveloped the room, and while his mind fought against unconsciousness, he sensed that the human was standing over him. His eyes opened weakly, and he looked up at Leon's pitying expression.

Suddenly, he remembered a time long ago, when weakness plagued his body to the point that even getting out of bed was an impossible feat. A dark-haired figure sat near him, stroking his cheek while pressing a damp cloth upon his forehead. Vaguely, he remembered trying to sit up, a sharp pain in his chest, and then falling back. A soft voice comforted him; he was feverish, and as helpless as a newborn child. The dark-haired figure held him until he drifted to sleep. But he could not recall anything else, for memory eluded and tortured him. Now, laying upon the floor, there was no dark-haired figure to hold him.

He was alone. He was dying.

A soft whimper escaped him as hot tears blurred his vision. Joachim tried to move his broken body across the floor, digging his fingernails into the stone to drag himself forward, only to have pain immobilize him. "What's the matter?" he hissed, glaring up at the knight, his eyes stabbing daggers of hate upon him. "I would rather die than be taken as your prisoner, human! Do what you came here to do, and kill me. For if you let me live, I shall only live to hunt you down and slaughter you. Humans have hunted and rebuked me until I no longer saw myself as a man. I have become exactly what Walter wanted me to be – a monster."

Leon grimaced. What had he done? He realized then, that the creature he fought was not simply a vampire imprisoned in the waterways. A story, untold, existed within the nobleman's piercing blue eyes. The _person_ lying before him on the ground had been tainted and then cruelly abandoned. During his journey though the castle, he fought countless demons and monsters, but none affected him as much as the white-haired vampire. Sorrow filled the knight as he looked upon _Joachim_, feeling his pain. "I don't think you are a monster." Leon whispered, whilst sadness enveloped him. "I cannot kill you. I fear my own soul would be forever stained by your blood if I did." But it seemed the nobleman had already surrendered his life. When the crusader extended his hand to aid him, the fallen youth slapped it weakly away.

"I don't want your pity_._" Joachim's voice gurgled the words. Blood clotted in his throat and slid from the corners of his lips and down his chest in thin, crimson lines. He wanted to believe he was not done fighting, that he could somehow overcome his injuries, and escape the terrifying loneliness of the water prison. Anger flashed through his eyes as he rasped. "_I am not finished this battle yet!_" The red liquid pooled out of his mouth, and the last of his strength, he slowly staggered to his feet. He stumbled, nearly falling, but was desperate to speak before his voice failed him. "My swords…cover me!" He searched for his swords – only to find that the weapons did not respond to his command. Like his body, his mind was too tired to continue fighting. He was so cold, so dreadfully cold. A sob wracked through his chest while his accusing eyes fell upon Leon. "To think…I lost…to a human."

The young man's ruthless hatred made a scowl cross the knight's lips, before he pointed his index finger at the vampire, unwilling to listen to the being's attempts to degrade him. "You promised! Now tell me, what is the Ebony Stone?"

Joachim's lips quivered, and the young vampire struggled to find the words. He had not imagined he would lose, and the sudden confrontation reminded him of what he offered if the battle ended with the human victorious. Between gasps, he struggled to stay conscious, his eyes burning from the agony coursing through every part of his trembling frame. "A stone…made with alchemy. It creates the never ending darkness….in this forest_._"

Even though Joachim tried to hide it, pain filled his voice. It was hopeless – he could not regain his strength before the ice from the whip and starvation took his life. The only thing he could do was fulfill his last promise before he died. What was death like? He had not thought about it for a long time, not since he was human. Death seemed so distant as a vampire. He did not know what would happen to his soul. He could not blame all of his crimes on Walter; many were his own doing. He tried to find some comfort in death, but knowing his soul was damned brought him only sadness.

"Hence eternal night…" he barely heard the knight muse. "But the night should help you as well, since you're a vampire!"

Joachim's mind slowly began to gather thoughts he nearly forgot in the state of his rage, and when he pieced them together, a shuddering gasp fled his lips. Every fiber inside him crumbled apart in that moment, for he realized the knight he hated and desired to kill was none other than Sara's betrothed – the one whom she hailed as being courageous and selfless. All along he had been fighting against her savior, for he was powerless to protect her in his watery prison, a thought that brought clouds of tears in his eyes. He nearly killed the only person who could save Sara and destroy Walter in his stead. The defeat he faced was much different than the others; his body felt so cold he was too weak to recover from the ravages of the ice-cold whip. Every part of him was fading away, doomed to disappear into the darkness from whence he came.

He inhaled a low hiss and staggered in place. In his agony he almost forgot the knight's demand. His eyes narrowed when his once proud visage shattered into bitter sobs. "Everyone I have ever known and loved is dead…and soon I shall join them. My life as a human was miserable, and only when I became a vampire did she bring me but a brief time of happiness…and for that…" His energy was disappearing rapidly, and he winced when sharp jolts of pain shot through his chest. If only he had more time…he would have told the knight everything…

"What do you mean?" Leon asked. The knight's anger dissipated into concern. More than anything, he wanted to help the injured nobleman but he kept his distance. The vampire did not want to be helped, and it pained him to only stand there, powerless to prevent the young man's suffering. He had witnessed so much death and sorrow during his campaigns in the east that, upon realizing the former human was truly dying, his heart ached with regret.

Joachim staggered again, and was barely able to remain standing. Pain etched across his face as he lamented. "I…would have betrayed…her if I took your life. I tried to destroy Walter and obtain control over Eternal Night…but I failed…"

Another jolt of agony warned him the grasping hands of death were approaching, preparing to steal his tainted soul into hell. Joachim gritted his teeth in pain before forcing himself to continue. "That stone chooses its master…my powers pale beside his…" Although his blood was cold, the ice was freezing his respiratory system, and breathing became increasingly difficult. With tortured steps, he staggered back, his eyes widening in fear as a cold chill ran through him. Ice was slowly encasing his silent heart. Tears freed themselves from his eyes and crystallized upon his cheeks from the cold. Life was slowly slipping away from him. If he had the crimson stone, he would have had the power to stop Walter.

But his powers were insignificant –and he was simply just another pawn in Walter's game, whose usefulness had reached its end.

The pale youth stared upward at the ceiling, his eyes gazing to the heavens, whilst he spoke, his dying breath professing his grief and regret.

"I only wish…that in my misery…I could find hope in seeing her again. Walter…if it were not for him…I would still be human. Oh…if only I had the crimson stone…!"

Pain resonated through his body, and a wail of anguish broke from his throat, consuming the lonely room's former silence. Ice crystallized completely around his heart, and the pain was so immense it felt like someone had plunged their hand through his chest and ripped it out. Joachim cringed inside himself while his eyes blurred out of focus. It was strange how once he was so determined to die, but the fact he would pass on with Walter still alive shattered his hope completely. His soul could never rest in peace as long as Walter lived to rule the night. Whether he was a vampire or a human, his existence always hinged on the will of others.

The only thing that comforted Joachim was Catherine. He saw her exquisite face smiling at him, the deep chestnut locks of her hair coiling around her neck, and the sound of her sweet voice calling his name…

Perhaps if he had more time he might have told Leon the terrible fate Walter inflicted upon Sara, the woman he too loved, but his body was beginning to dissolve. A bright light flashed in his eyes, and he screamed…

Gradually, his vision faded into blackness.


	35. Chapter 35: Remembrance

**Lady Armster: Wow, it's been way too long since I updated this story. I sincerely apologize for seemingly abandoning this work. I hadn't forgotten about it but real life got in the way, as usual. Fortunately, I still found some time to work on it when I wasn't busy with school and my job. I would like to thank everyone who has followed this story and to thank readers who gave me feedback between my last update and now. I love hearing that people are still reading it and the feedback certainly encouraged me to work on finishing it. I know this story is epically long but this new chapter is the second last chapter. I have the last chapter 3/4 finished and I plan to have it completed by the end of next month. For now, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Reviews are always appreciated. :)**

**Note: this chapter takes place right AFTER Walter is defeated by Leon and Leon escapes the collapsing castle. I wanted my story to follow _Lament of Innocence's_ plotline as much as possible so the cutscene featured at the end of _LoI_ (Leon fighting Walter, Mathias' speech, Leon fighting death, etc.) are cannon for this story as well. This chapter begins right when the cutscene showing Leon walking away from the ruins of Eternal Night ends. I chose to begin it at that point because anyone who has played _LoI_ already knows Walter's fate. If you forget what happens at the end of LoI, there are lots of videos on _YouTube_ that show the ending.**

**Chapter: XXXV**

Rays of light filtered through the dense trees, covering the ground in a sea of gold. The lonely silence was broken by birdsong in welcome of the night's defeat. A thick cloud of dust hung in the air, creating a strange ghostly shroud across the sky. As if awakened from a long slumber, the forest acquired a startling beauty and serenity. The sun's brilliant sphere rose above the horizon like a phoenix.

Leon's cerulean eyes stared ahead, transfixed on the worn path before him. The future, once so clear, suddenly seemed uncertain and frightening. A haggard sigh escaped his lips. He wiped his forehead with the back of his gloved hand, trying to remove the dirt, blood, and perspiration caked upon his face. The knight's fair skin, once glowing with the vibrancy of youth, was uncharacteristically pale. His face wore an expressionless mask.

Hollowness haunted his gaze, professing the grief consuming his heart. Sara and Mathias were lost to him. Somehow, deep within himself, he wondered if he had failed them both. Perhaps, if he had been a better friend to Mathias, and not returned to the crusades – if he had arrived at Eternal Night sooner – he might have been able to save them. Deep seeded anger filled his being when he thought about his former comrade in arms, adviser, and dearest friend. Mathias had left him at the mercy of death. Yet, the tactician underestimated the crusader's determination. He had defeated death, and could only anticipate that the specter would deliver his message to its master. He would search to the ends of the earth until he found Mathias. A part of him despised Mathias for his crimes; yet another part of him understood the tactician's grief. Mathis had made certain he would understand what it felt like to lose that which he loved most.

Leon ruminated on Mathias' persuasive offer. Had Mathias given the opportunity of eternal life, most would have accepted. However, the knight remembered Sara's dying wish, as well as the forgotten vampire imprisoned in the waterways. He would never give in to hatred as Mathias did. The creature who tried to entice him with promises of revenge and power was not the same man he knew. Revenge and power would not bring Sara and Elisabetha back.

Sara's image still resonated through his mind, and the memory of her death tortured him. Not even Walter's defeat could bring him peace; all he knew and loved was gone. He had given up everything to save her, only to find himself powerless. He remembered looking into her eyes, feeling her pain, as her life slipped away in his arms. That bitter, dark night, he had held her until her body grew cold, and he affirmed to himself that she was no more. He had tried to do everything he could to honor her memory. He prayed to God - a silent God – for her soul to find his one day. Mathias had tried to test his faith, and nearly succeeded in destroying it. Sara's love for him was eternal, and he would not dishonor her sacrifice. His hand lightly brushed across the whip cinched at his waist belt, and he found some comfort feeling her soul's presence near.

Leon blinked in the daylight, as if its presence was somehow more unnatural than night. He staggered down the pathway, barely conscious of his own actions. Weary and battle-worn, the knight nursed his wounded shoulder from his skirmish with the vampire in the waterways. The wound throbbed and began bleeding again. Thin red lines trickled across his silver gauntlet, staining its metallic surface crimson. Numb to the pain, he continued onward, not caring about his body's protests.

When he finally arrived before the old man's cottage, Rinaldo was standing outside waiting for him. For the first time since they met, a small smile creased the corner's of Rinaldo's lips. The severity in the old man's countenance relented the moment he saw the knight approaching. Leon was surprised how different Rinaldo appeared during the daytime, when he could see him in natural sunlight, rather than the soft glow of candlelight. Rinaldo seemed more fragile and vulnerable; every feature of the man's rough face, calloused hands, and tanned skin was visible. Though he would never speak of it, he could sense weariness in Rinaldo – years spent in darkness, trying to avenge the death of his family had taken its toll. A new hope brimmed in the old man's eyes for the first time in decades.

Rinaldo stepped forward, ready to welcome the knight's return with open arms. He hesitated when Leon hung his head, his gray eyes surveying the knight in concern. "Leon, you did well to come back. I owe you a great debt."

"You owe me nothing of the kind," Leon replied, trying to hide the fact that Walter's death had not brought him the peace he so longed for. "I am grateful for all you have done to help me. Eternal night will never again return to this forest."

"What of the Ebony Stone? Something so powerful must not fall under a vampire's control again."

Leon hesitated, feeling a tightness in his throat. "I…was unable to recover it."

"What do you mean?" Rinaldo's eyes widened. "Upon Walter's death, it should have relinquished its power to you. Surely, you must be mistaken-"

"The Ebony Stone…and its master's soul…were stolen." Leon did not know any other way to tell the old man except as plainly as possible. The moment he spoke, he regretted his bluntness.

Rinaldo became almost statue-like. His countenance abruptly regained its former severity. "What do you mean by _stolen_?"

"Mathias was responsible for Sara's kidnapping. In exchange for her life and my own, Walter granted him eternity…as a vampire. However, Mathias betrayed Walter and took his soul and his power - including the Ebony Stone."

"How could that be possible?" A gasp fled the old man's lips, and he pressed a hand to his brow, shaking his head in disbelief. "You mean to tell me that Lord Cronqvist was involved _and_ gave up his humanity _willingly_? That still does not explain how he could have taken Walter's soul! There is only one object in the world capable of trapping a vampire's very soul-"

Rinaldo fell silent. Leon sighed, lowering his head, for he felt no need to explain further. After a long pause, the old man's hands clenched into fists. Bitterness seeped into Rinaldo's voice when he spoke, though the empathy in his gaze contradicted it. "Lord Cronqvist will one day come to regret his decision. I am sorry, Leon…"

Leon shook his head; his sapphire colored eyes gleamed with renewed intensity. "Despite the immensity of Mathias' powers, I will not let him destroy more lives. I promised Sara no one else will suffer her fate and I will not fail her."

"Leon, you must not dedicate your life to revenge-"

"Sara sacrificed her life to save others! I cannot stay here knowing Mathias still dwells in the shadows."

"Stubborn as always…" Rinaldo muttered, suppressing a half-amused smile. As if expecting the knight had already made his decision, he ushered him inside the cottage. "You are exhausted and hungry. Let's not debate this now. Come and rest – you will need your strength if wish to recover quickly. I see you are wounded, as well."

Leon wanted to object but his body was too tired to keep going. His muscles were sore and he could barely stay awake. With a reluctant nod, he followed the old man inside the modest cottage. Every step was growing more and more difficult; he could not continue without resting at least one day. His supplies were low and he would have to buy more food and potions before departing. With heavy steps, he walked toward the table beside the empty fireplace and collapsed into a chair. Needles of pain shot up and down his arm, making him wince.

In a tired voice, he acknowledged the old man's kindness. "Thank you, Rinaldo. I will only stay until tomorrow morning. I do not wish to burden you further-"

"Nonsense, Leon."

Rinaldo hurried behind the wooden store counter and began rummaging through the supplies on the shelf. He withdrew a small glass bottle containing a dark blue liquid and examined it a moment. Then, with a satisfied look, he approached the table and sat down across the knight, uncorking the bottle.

"Let me see your injury. My potion will ease the pain. It will take a few days for your wound to heal, but this will make your recovery faster. I wish you would not place yourself at needless risk; you are young and still have your whole life ahead of you."

A heavy sigh escaped Rinaldo's lips. His gray eyes focused intently upon the knight's sullen expression as he continued.

"I feel some obligation to tell you that I sometimes regret my decision to live in this forest. I realized, over time, I lived as Walter did – alone, surrounded by darkness, craving the blood of the one who wronged me. My desire to confront the lord of Eternal Night became an obsession. I often wonder if my choice to live here is what my family would have wanted. Even now, in the wake of Walter's defeat, I'm not sure if I made the the _right _choice."

At first, Leon could think of no response. He did not want to offend the old man by dismissing him too quickly. When he felt the cool, soothing sensation of the potion on his shoulder, he breathed a sigh of relief. The throbbing pain dulled somewhat, and the bleeding ceased. Leon gave the old man a small, grateful smile.

"It feels much better now." The knight replied. "I still have a bit of gold left. I will need to purchase more potions from you before I leave, with your permission?"

"There's no need," Rinaldo withdrew a small, damp cloth and began to dab the wound clean. As the blood slowly disappeared, his injury gave the illusion of being less severe. "I will provide you with the rest of my stock. It is the least I can do in return. However, I must ask you again to reconsider your decision to hunt vampires. Would Sara truly want you to live that kind of life? What of your family? Surely, you will return home?"

"I cannot," Leon whispered, feeling a tightness return to his throat. When Rinaldo gave him a skeptical look, he continued reluctantly. "The Belmont name exists through I, alone. When I came to Eternal Night to rescue Sara, I gave up everything-"

"I thought you only left the company?"

"I had no choice except to relinquish my lands, title, and assets as well. My only possessions are what I am carrying with me."

"I see." Rinaldo's expression was enigmatic, his silver brow furrowing for a moment, before he added. "Where will you go?"

Leon's hand slipped to the whip and squeezed it tightly, his eyes hardening, and he replied without hesitation. "Wherever Mathias goes, I shall follow - until we meet again."

The old man slowly shook his head. With a resigned sigh, he finished cleaning the wound and began bandaging it with a strip of cloth. His hands worked slowly, as if in an effort to delay the knight long enough to persuade him otherwise. "I still can't believe Lord Cronqvist was involved in this. It shames me to know I studied alchemy with him; I even taught him a few things over the years…all for naught. I see, now, where his talents have led him. If you decide to pursue this, I pray you do not doom yourself as well."

Leon did not mention that Mathias had offered him eternity, and he had refused. Nor did he even breathe a whisper about the loneliness he felt thereafter. He did not wish to think about anything except what lay before him. Yet, a growing uneasiness inside him would not let him dissever himself from the past completely. As the old man wrapped the bandages around his arm, briefly, he thought on the one responsible for his injury. A gleaming pale face emerged from the shadows of his mind; ashen hair; and eyes of such a clear, light blue that they could have pierced the very fibers of his soul. Leon gasped, prompting Rinaldo to pause, as low, solemn words fled his lips.

"I…do not have a clear conscience. Somehow, I feel I have no right to leave this forest. The forest binds me here; the trees are iron bars trapping me within a prison of memories."

"What do you mean?" Rinaldo's silvery eyes narrowed.

A frown creased the corners of the knight's smooth lips. With a heavy sigh, he lowered his head. Locks of sun-kissed hair fell lightly around his face in thick, glossy layers. His face lost some of its former color. "I met someone, deep within the cold, dark walls of the castle. He was very strange; I thought he suffered from some illness, a prisoner of Walter's left to die within the waterways. I do not know exactly how to describe him; he was a slight, pale, fragile creature; yet if I had not searched the room in which I found him, I would have mistaken him as nothing more than a shadow."

Rinaldo froze, as if the knight's words had the power to transform him into a statue. In a grave, quiet voice, he replied. "This…person you met, can you describe him further?"

"I have never seen anyone quite like this person. His hair was as pallid as snow; no doubt, he was born with some sort of condition. Lurking within his gaze was a kind of madness nurtured by the injustices of neglect and sorrow; scarcely could I look at him without feeling overwhelmed by pity. I did not expect the sight of that wretched creature to invoke such anger and sorrow toward the demon, Walter, who condemned him there."

At first, the old man simply nodded silently. Leon could almost feel Rinaldo's hands tremble for a moment. Then, as if to collect himself, the alchemist paused once again. Leon detected a hint of regret in the old man's voice.

"What became of him?"

"I…" Leon started, but his voice failed him. He forced himself to look up at Rinaldo's face. "I…was too late."

"Too late?"

"His…_affliction_ consumed him. I cannot imagine the torture and degradation he endured in that lonely cell before chance fated us to meet. There was nothing left of him…nothing…" His words drifted into silence. After withdrawing a breath, he whispered. "I…killed him."

"You had no choice-"

"There are always choices! Perhaps, if I could have made him see reason, he would have helped me destroy Walter. He mentioned Sara's name. What I would give to know the circumstances of their meeting."

"Perhaps, it was he who bit Sara, and not Walter? Walter always enjoyed changing his 'game' on a whim." Rinaldo suggested, giving the young man a cautious look.

The knight shook his head. His voice acquired a firmness he was not accustomed to using when addressing a friend. Indeed, Rinaldo was the only friend he had left – his former life and those he knew refused to see him when he announced his decision to relinquish his title. No one had approved of his decision; marriage was nothing except a means of gaining greater wealth and influence. Those whom he once called 'friends' rebuked him as a foolish idealist; a reckless ingrate, who cared nothing for his family's reputation. His wish to relinquish everything for a merchant's daughter stunned even his family's most loyal allies. People questioned his honor; several dukes were offended when he refused their offers of betrothal to their daughters, women of 'higher' breeding and financial prestige. He would rather lose everything and die than live knowing he abandoned the only person he loved more than life itself.

He knew Sara would not lose hope, just as he knew the unfortunate nobleman, whom he encountered all too briefly in the waterways, was innocent of the crime Rinaldo alleged. There was no proof either way, yet an indescribable feeling convinced him. The vampire killer whip reacted with anger in Walter's presence; Sara's soul professed the vampire lord's guilt.

"You're wrong." Leon replied. "Walter enjoyed my grief far too much. If there was a chance I could discover it was not he who tainted her, he would not have had the worthy battle he so desired. He wanted me to expend the last of my strength trying to defeat him, for it would have made his victory even more rewarding."

"Of course, he did not anticipate that he would lose."

"Or death's betrayal."

"It seems centuries of power made him too easily satisfied; too eager to test the limits of his capabilities. However, there is…something I must tell you before you depart. I may have been too quick to judge."

Upon finishing his work, Rinaldo set the empty potion bottle on the table. Streams of sunlight poured into the tiny cabin through its dusty windowpanes. The old man blinked in the light, though sadness wore away his initial happiness. During the daytime, Leon found Rinaldo's cottage strangely unfamiliar. He could see the aging wooden walls, the light film of dust covering the store counter, and numerous vials, herbs, animal skulls, and decanters stored on old, rickety shelves. The cottage looked as tired as its owner.

Leon flexed his arm, and sighed with relief when his wound no longer ached. His body tensed. "What is it?" He asked.

Rinaldo hesitated. His voice, once firm and confident, suddenly wavered. "That hapless creature you mentioned…did he tell you his name?"

The knight never forgot the vampire's eerily calm introduction, or the sight of his crimson irises flashing in the darkness. Slowly, the shadows gave way to the creature's will, like servants to a prince. He remembered the bright, greenish glow surrounding five massive, deadly blades. The vampire had controlled such weapons with startling ease; his very thoughts could fling them across the room in hardly the blink of an eye.

With a heavy sigh, the knight confirmed what memory would not let him forget. "His name was Joachim Armster. I heard it from his own admission."

"So, it was he, after all." For a moment, the severity in Rinaldo's countenance relented. A look, torn between condemnation and regret flickered across his face. "Forgive me for not speaking of this earlier. After hearing your account, he seems as wicked as I suspected. And yet…"

"Please continue." Leon felt his breath hitch. Without realizing it, his body tensed. Ever since he escaped the castle, he found it difficult to relax. Always, his mind wandered to what he was forced to leave behind – Sara, Mathias, Joachim, Walter – all of them had played an instrumental role in his destiny, and suddenly, seemed so distant.

The old man was on the verge of withholding the information. Rinaldo rose from his seat and looked away, his gray eyes fixated upon the floor. With a sigh, the alchemist finally relented. "I suppose it does not matter anymore. What I am about to explain happened before your arrival. It was a dark and particularly cold winter's night when I heard someone approaching up the path. Many men have come and perished playing Walter's game, and I suspected yet another poor soul had wandered here in search of the castle. However, the last thing I expected to see was a _vampire_ waiting outside my cottage. I was about to sortie with the demon, until his composure shattered, and he pleaded for my assistance. I would have demanded his departure then and there, had the desperation in his voice not aroused some form of empathy within me."

"What did he want from you?" Leon asked. His bright blue eyes widened. "If he was the same person I encountered in the waterways – it was before his imprisonment."

"I believe you are right. The creature's request truly astounded me. He claimed to need food for a certain young lady whom Walter forced him to hold captive. Never have I seen a vampire fearful for a _human's_ life. I believe…he may have tried to protect her from the cruelty of his lord. He did not tell me the maiden's name; only that she was a merchant's daughter. Shortly thereafter, you came to this forest, and I never saw him again. I could only imagine what became of him. I regret…what you have told me confirms my fears."

Leon fell silent. Pain resonated across his face, as if the old man's words plunged daggers into his heart. He struggled to control himself and covered his face with his hands. "I understand…how could I have-"

"He gave you no other option!" The old man interjected fiercely. "If you intend to hunt vampires, you cannot pity them. Empathy will only make destroying them more difficult. Though you need not be heartless, you must be resolute. For all we know, he may have tried to usurp Walter from his throne and tainted Sara to enslave her to his will."

"If that was so, why would he beg you to help him protect her life? Walter would not have received such great pleasure from my discovery that Sara was already bitten if he was not responsible for the deed."

"Perhaps, that is true." Rinaldo mused, at last consenting to the plausibility of knight's arguments. "But I would not call that creature kind. He destroyed the lives of many innocents. Before his apparent fall from freedom, he and Walter hunted together. You cannot imagine the destruction they wrought upon those who had never wronged them. Forgive my callousness Leon, but if Walter cast him into the depths, perhaps he thought it a necessary cause. Though I will not credit any of Walter's deeds as benevolent. That creature suffered greatly for his master's crimes. I would never wish such torture upon anyone – not even one so cruel as he."

"I am afraid I do not see him as you do," Leon whispered. His hands fell away from his face. He turned his head toward the window, and for a long moment, stared at the forested trees bathing in the sun's warm light. A cloudy haze consumed the sky. Without looking at the alchemist, he continued softly. "He was human once, and no different than you and I. I believe there is more to him than we will ever know."

"You are weary. Let us never talk of this again. I will get you something to eat, and I suggest afterward, you rest in the back until tomorrow."

"Thank you, Rinaldo." The knight returned Rinaldo's suggestion with a dull smile.

The old man gave the youth a goblet of red wine, and together, they supped upon a modest meal of coarse barely bread, goat's cheese, and fish Rinaldo had caught from a nearby stream. Leon found the food somewhat consoling and, upon finishing, politely excused himself to rest. Rinaldo's makeshift guestroom in the cottage's storage room was cramped, but calming . He drew the ragged drapes across the room's lone window to block out the sunlight, before lying upon the tiny mattress. Despite his desire to sleep, it did not come easily. He found himself staring blankly at the wood-planked ceiling for quite some time.

Always, his thoughts lingered upon Sara. He would never see her smile again; or feel her in his embrace. Her eyes, more beautiful than all the stars in heaven, would never grace him with their loveliness again. They had not the chance to share even one last tender moment before her passing. She had been afraid; unwilling to risk the possibility of tainting him as well.

He wondered how she had come across a dagger during her frantic effort to escape. Sara had never carried a weapon in all the time he knew her. Even though he should have let the matter rest, uncertainty still churned within him. He could not express what it was, but something in Sara's words – or was it her eyes? – compelled him to dwell upon what she endured before his arrival at Eternal Night.

Leon rose from the bed, hurried toward the storage shelves, and searched them until he found the deadly object. He held the small weapon and examined it closely. The dagger was finely crafted with a silver handle and razor-sharp edge, attesting to workmanship by an experienced blacksmith. Engraved very delicately into the handle was a family crest depicting a scrawled letter _A_. It was so small that if he had not searched for it closely, he might have missed seeing it. The knight let out a gasp, nearly dropping the weapon. He had seen a similar crest during his campaigns in the east.

He reflected upon Sara's final plea. When he desperately asked to know the reason, she begged him to understand. Sara's willingness to give her life for others was selfless, though unclear. Her determination revealed an even greater purpose. It pained him to think it was not for him to know.

"_If my soul can save others then I won't die in vain. I do not want anyone else to suffer my fate._

_Please, if you still love me, grant me my final wish."_

The crest on the weapon proved it was not something she had found in Rinaldo's storage room. The knight's eyes softened, their lucid blue spheres glistening with suppressed tears. He pictured the young nobleman standing in the darkness of his prison, his body shuddering while he confessed sorrowfully; tears brimming in his eyes.

"_I…would have betrayed her… if I took your life…"_

Leon crumpled to the floor as a barely audible sob wracked his chest. He wanted to remember only Sara's beautiful, smiling face, when he had held her hand and confessed his deepening affection for her. She captured his heart thoroughly and completely. She was honorable, he knew that undoubtedly, but he regretted asking her to wait for him those two long years. He thought he would have the chance to make amends; to devote himself to her happiness for the rest of their lives together. The pale visage of the vampire shadowed his thoughts; his gleaming, dagger-like eyes stared at him through the darkness. Leon could see Sara's image reflect in the vampire's gaze…

He did not want to know more. If he knew, he feared believing everything he sacrificed would be for naught.

…The vampire, Lord Armster, locked away in the waterways; condemned to an eternity of anguish…

…Sara's last wish to prevent others from suffering…

Not only her fate, but also _his_...

* * *

Mathias emerged from the darkness, offering him his hand. The knight's chest ached, and beads of sweat slid down his smooth cheeks. After years of searching, he had finally confronted his former ally. He looked into the tactician's dark spheres, feeling the pain within them engulf him completely. Sadness overwhelmed the knight, for he spent years in a dark, lonely solitude, uncertain of his past and future. Grief and anger had weathered away his former innocence. Mathias offered him certainty, and he welcomed the tactician's pale hand. He was too exhausted to continue. His body, once strong and agile, had succumbed to the ravages of years searching. Now, when they at last met, he could not bring himself to destroy the one who had wronged him so deeply. The world had abandoned him; everyone he knew forgot him, and his family name was nothing but a memory. All the hope within him died over time. Without resisting, he let Mathias' porcelain hand take his. The tactician's dark, fur-lined cloak gently embraced him. He felt the vampire's breath upon the back of his neck. Mathias' calm voice was reassuring, even gentle.

_I have waited for this day, Leon. I knew you would come to accept this gift as I did. Together, we can accomplish much, just as we did years ago when we fought side-by-side; preserving in each other a desire for justice. Not even time will remedy your pain, even though I did what was necessary. You needed to understand my grief in order to see God's treachery. For you are all that remains of a life I once cherished…_

The tactician's cold lips skimmed the surface of the knight's graceful neck. Leon gasped, torn between the urge to resist and to relent. He shuddered when the vampire stroked his face, and felt his body relax into the creature's embrace. Barely conscious, he felt the whip slip from his fingers and heard it fall onto the ground by his feet. The weapon pulsed a bright shade of purple, warning him of the dangerous contract he was about to enter, screaming for him to recover the will to refuse. Mathias' fingers combed the locks of his flaxen hair as if to comfort him.

Suddenly, without warning, a sharp pain surged through his neck. He wanted to scream, but his voice betrayed him to silence. Lord Cronqvist's embrace tightened, and he clutched the knight to his chest, whilst his long, chestnut colored tumbled across his back and shoulders, curtaining the young man. The knight began to feel weak, and the intimacy of his friend's touch aroused and terrified him simultaneously. Blood poured across the lapels of his surcoat and stained the white fabric crimson.

When it seemed his life would surely end, the pain ebbed away, and his conscious efforts to breathe affirmed the contrary. The tactician's smooth lips skimmed the knight's blood-drenched neck, reveling in his former adversary's absolute surrender. A low, breathless moan escaped the young man's throat when Mathias' tongue slowly licked the blood away, turning pain into pure, unadulterated pleasure.

_Eternity is merely the beginning, Leon…_

* * *

Leon bolted upright in the bed, feeling his body break into a cold sweat. Without thinking, he grabbed the whip on the bedside table and lifted his arm, searching for Mathias' silhouette within the tiny, shadow-cloaked room. Panting heavily, he rose from the bed, hurried to the window, and tore the curtain away. Amidst the night's starry abyss, the full moon greeted him with its pale, soft light. He had slept through the entirety of the day and awakened to night.

The knight wiped his brow and began recovering his clothes and supplies. When he was fully dressed, he opened the guestroom door, and crept toward the cottage's back door. Moonlight spilled through the cottage's windows, bathing the floorboards in a shroud of glistening white. He was still weary and sleep had been fleeting. In the darkness, his haggard, sickly face revealed him.

Leon opened the back door and crossed the back garden. His feet, despite their uncharacteristic heaviness, found the strength to carry him onward. As he walked, his breath rose in puffs into the night sky. The air was crisp and a light layer of frost covered the ground and the branches of the evergreens surrounding the tiny clearing.

Finally, he could walk no more, and stood silently before Sara's grave. The wreath of chrysanthemums he had woven and laid upon her grave reminded him of her. He had not been able to grieve; all he had focused on after her death was confronting Walter. It shamed him to know that, in his determination to avenge her, had not taken the time to mourn. He had loved her; loved her with a love that he would not betray for eternity. He fell to his knees before her grave, unable, and perhaps, unwilling to leave her. The whip cinched to his waist belt pulsed with a soft, purple glow when his hand reached out and touched the cold, rough surface of her grave marker. He had used a large rock as a makeshift tombstone. The rock's crudeness was unbefitting of Sara's memory but it was all he could find. Briefly, he looked up at the moon, and was somewhat unaccustomed to its whiteness. The forest, and the night itself, seemed to regain its former normalcy.

A soft, sad smile crossed his lips when he thought of her. How beautiful Sara would have looked in her wedding dress. He imagined her smiling face and bright, crystalline eyes gazing upon him. The sunlight would have made the ivory whiteness of her dress sparkle like snow.

At last, his gaze broke away from the moon and to her grave. In his grief, he had not taken notice that something was different. The knight slowly rose to his feet. A small bouquet of flowers had been placed beside Sara's makeshift tombstone. The mauve colored flowers gave off a pleasant fragrance. At first, he assumed Rinaldo might have left them there out of respect. However, the old man seldom left the protection of the barrier. When Leon had gathered chrysanthemums growing near the cottage, there was not a trace of violets anywhere.

The knight startled when an echoing cry sounded from the trees. Without thinking, his hand flew to the whip and grasped it. His fever was worsening, but he would not rest until he found the source of the sound. With slow, deliberate steps, he walked around the side of the cottage, scanning the trees for the outline of a monster. The full moon aided his search, and provided enough light for him to see his way. When he approached the front of the cottage, a faint, whinnying cry shattered the silence of the night. Leon frantically searched the forest until he caught sight of a gleaming silver horse galloping through the foliage. The beast was moving so swiftly his eyes could scarcely follow it. The drum of rapid hoof beats resounded through the darkness. When the equine plunged into the tiny clearing in front of the cottage, Leon froze upon realizing that the creature's hooves did not touch the gravel path. A dull aura surrounded the beast's ethereal form. A strange white film covered the horse's eyes, initially making him assume it was blind. It slowed to a halt and turned its regal head to look at him. Layers of silky hair rested upon its slender neck; strong muscles rippled beneath its shimmering coat. When it stood still, its ghostly form seemed no less real than he was.

With a low huff, the creature lifted its head and pricked its ears forward. The moment he stepped toward the equine, it half-rose upon its haunches and emitted a defiant neigh. He meant the creature no harm, and attempted to approach it slowly. Yet, when he came within a few feet of its translucent form, the beast turned, and disappeared over the path's inclining slope. Leon doggedly followed the beast. Although it took great effort for him to walk, he was determined to discover where the ghostly apparition had gone. Like a lantern in the sky, the full moon lit the gravel path, aiding him in his pursuit.

He continued up the path until the eerie remains of the castle emerged in the distance. Like an ancient ruin, a massive pile of stone and debris was all that remained of Walter's glory. The only thing that had survived the castle's collapse was its entry archway and exterior front wall. Somehow, the castle emanated a forlorn, lamenting sadness. The moon loomed above the castle's remains, illuminating its crumbling half-broken towers and sagging archway. For a brief second, beyond the broken drawbridge, Leon caught sight of the equine's silvery form disappearing into the ruins. Unwilling to turn back, he approached the castle's decaying stone front and stood before the broken drawbridge. He had no choice except to use the whip to swing himself across, for the ground beneath it had given way to a deep cavity in the earth.

Leon withdrew the Vampire Killer and lifted his arm. He managed to latch the whip around one of the winches that once secured the drawbridge. Without hesitating, he swung across the gap. After landing on the opposite side, he walked beneath the precariously sinking entrance arch and into what had formerly been the castle's circular entranceway. Piles of rocks littered the ground and the doors to its east and western wings were no longer accessible; massive broken columns and statues barricaded them. Oddly enough, the only thing that survived the quake was the balcony and its two ascending staircases on either side of it. The balcony led to nowhere, for the entrance to the pagoda behind it had fallen away completely. The full moon, now the balcony's lone backdrop, cast a soft, pale light across it. Thousands of stars glittered in the night sky around the broken entranceway as if grieving the demise of its former magnificence.

There was no sign of the equine anywhere. Faintness overwhelmed the knight, and he had to lean against the wall to stay standing. Too weary to continue his pursuit, Leon reluctantly turned to leave. The ruined castle unsettled him, for it brought back painful memories of the vampire who once ruled it. The very suggestion that he might have seen an apparition seemed suddenly ludicrous. He shook his head, and might have laughed at himself, had disappointment not consumed him. However, upon turning to depart, a strange feeling overcame his senses. He was not alone.

Whip in hand, he spun round and cracked it against the battered stone floor. He gasped, and staggered back while taking in the sight of a figure standing atop the balcony – a lone silhouette bathed in the light of the full moon. Leon stared unblinkingly, trying to discern the identity of his observer. The tails of the figure's robes, caught by the wind, swept around the shadowy frame like folded wings. Leon felt the stranger's eyes focus intently upon him. Neither he nor his observer spoke. In the brief moment Leon saw the figure, its familiar, slender outline almost convinced him that what he once thought impossible was real. He stared in amazement, wondering if, perhaps….just perhaps…he was looking upon the last vestige of the night.

The figure was so still it was almost statue-like, and stood with the regality of a fallen sovereign. Leon saw the figure turn its head slightly, so that the moon's soft light revealed a glimpse of its smooth, youthful ashen face and glossy white hair. Though he could not explain it, some form of understanding passed between them, there, amidst the castle's haunting ruins. Leon's breath hitched in his chest. They seemed to share the same profound grief; the same lament of innocence that could never be fully regained. He forced himself to divert his gaze when he noticed the whip's dim purple aura glowing a shade brighter than usual. Calm warmth surged from the weapon. Leon looked up at the shadow-cloaked figure again, his dark blue eyes gleaming in the moonlight. However, when the knight's recognition showed upon his face, the figure turned and began walking slowly away.

"Wait!"

Leon's voice was lost in the howling wind. He ran toward the balcony, swiftly ascending the steps, anxious to prevent the person from leaving. To his despair, when he stood atop the lonely platform, his watcher was nowhere in sight. Leon searched the entirety of the balcony and entranceway until the dark, starry sky gradually faded to dawn. Exhausted and frustrated, the knight resigned himself to the fact that, whomever he thought he had seen that night, had disappeared.

By dawn, he was so feverish that he could barely walk. It took all of his strength and willpower to stagger back to Rinaldo's house. He had barely reached the veranda when he collapsed.

The days following were a mere blur. As he drifted in and out of consciousness, Rinaldo stayed at his bedside at all hours of the day and night. Were it not for the old man's kindness, the young man would have surely perished from sickness. Every hour, Rinaldo lifted Leon's sweat-soaked head and pressed a cup to his lips. Vaguely, he remembered hearing Rinaldo gently encouraging him to drink the medicinal liquid. It took great effort for Leon to sip from the cup, but Rinaldo was persistent, and helped him drink until it was empty. After he finished the tea, the alchemist often laid a damp cloth over his forehead in an effort to bring the fever down. Sometimes, Rinaldo never left his bedside, not even to rest himself. Those were the times when the knight's breathing grew shallow, and the only way the old man knew Leon still lived was when he heard the youth murmur in his sleep. Leon often awoke trembling, and his skin was a shade so pale he looked neither alive nor dead.

On one occasion, when Rinaldo left the tiny room to make another remedy, the knight swung his feet over the edge of the bed and stumbled unsteadily to his feet. He grasped around the room until he found the wall beside the door and rested his shoulder against it, before forcing his feet to carry him forward. In his haste, he fell against the shelves, knocking over most of the contents stored upon them with a resounding crash.

Barely a moment later, Rinaldo flew into the room and took the young man's arm. "Leon, why are you out of bed?"

The old man's voice was firm, though concern washed across his face as he tried to lead him back to the tiny cot. To his amazement, the youth resisted him, and frantically attempted to move toward the door.

Despite his age, Rinaldo was far stronger than the weakened knight, and easily prevented his escape. "What are you doing?"

Leon's eyes were wide and glassy; their blue spheres gleaming with wild excitement. His strength began to leave him again, and his chest heaved from the exertion of standing. Dizziness overcame him, and he abruptly stumbled against the alchemist for support. With the desperation of a madman, he croaked. "_He's alive, he's alive! I saw him myself!_"

"Who are you talking about?" Rinaldo gave the young man an incredulous look.

"_I saw him, Rinaldo!_ _Why won't you believe me?_"

"I don't know what you mean!" The old man snapped. Then, catching himself, he shook his head and laid the young man down upon the cot. "Your fever has gotten worse, and you must rest. God help me, but I will do all I can for you. You deserve far better than life has given you but you _must_ live, Leon. Live for Sara's sake, if not your own!"

"_Sara…_" The knight whispered her name under his breath. As soon as he spoke it, she appeared before him in the doorway. The long, thick locks of her dark brown hair framed her lovely, fair face. A sad, gentle smile crossed her lips as she stood, gazing benevolently upon him. The white skirt of her dress flowed gracefully over the floor around her feet. She bowed her head and spoke, her soft voice filling his ears. _If you still love me, Leon…_

"_I can see her! She is over there smiling at me! Oh, what I would give to bring her back to me! My dearest - my dearest - my love and my hope…_"

Rinaldo did not turn to look where the knight said she was standing, knowing all too well it would merely drive the young man into a frenzied state. Without replying, he sat down upon a chair beside the cot until the youth drifted back to sleep.

* * *

Two weeks passed before Leon was strong enough to leave Rinaldo's care. His recovery was miraculous, and he felt stronger than ever before. Colour returned to his face, and his eyes were bright. Despite regaining the will to live, he seemed far older than when he first came to the forest, even though the vibrancy of youth still existed within him. He could not remember what he had said to Rinaldo while he was ill, and the old man never broached the topic. The knight refrained from confessing to Rinaldo that, since the day he grew strong enough to walk again, he secretly ventured to the fallen castle every night. Perhaps, the whip's warm glow stirred something akin to longing within the knight – for what – he did not know.

As time went on, he began to wonder if what he had seen that moonlit night was, in actuality, real at all. The castle had collapsed, taking all its monsters and mysteries with it. Each time he returned to the castle, he left feeling even more doubtful that anything could have survived.

Finally, the day came when he was ready to leave the forest. Leon humbly accepted the generous supplies of food and potions the old man offered. They stood outside, admiring the pleasantness of the day, for the fierceness of winter was slowly giving way to spring's rejuvenating splendour It was a beautiful, clear day, and the sun shone brilliantly in the cerulean sky.

"Where will you go now?" Rinaldo asked with amicable yet somewhat wistful smile.

Leon's eyes traced the path before him and he shook his head. "Honestly, I do not know. I will see if I can locate any trace of Mathias during my travels."

"So," the old man sighed. "It's clear you have made your decision. I can only hope that, wherever you go, you will find peace one day."

"I can only hope for the same. Somewhere, there are vampires hunting innocents – vampires who may know Lord Cronqvist's whereabouts. I will do all I can to protect others from befalling Sara's fate. You have been a better friend than I could have ever asked for, and I thank you for all you have done for me…and for Sara."

Rinaldo's smile broadened. "You have done me an even greater honor. I will not forget it."

Leon turned to depart and slung the cloth bag of supplies over his back. However, he hesitated a moment, and looked over his shoulder at the old man. "I have one more question."

"Go on." An amused glint appeared in the old man's eyes, reminding Leon of a time when one question often led to many.

"What will you do? Will you soon leave this place?"

"I have considered it," Rinaldo's expression became pensive, though he did not seem concerned in the least. "A part of me feels this forest is my home, now. However, I may have to move on, eventually. Even with Walter gone, I doubt very many people will pass through here. Many still consider this forest cursed by vampires. The men and women who did happen to find Eternal Night came deliberately, with no other reason except to challenge the master of castle. I will not sell much if I stay here. I suppose, when the time is right, I will decide."

Leon nodded silently. With a respectful bow, he gave the old man his final valediction. "I wish you well then. Goodbye, Rinaldo."

"Farewell, Leon."

* * *

Two years passed since Leon Belmont defeated the lord of Eternal Night. The former knight wandered across Europe, valiantly searching for any sign of Lord Cronqvist to no avail. Over time, he began to wonder if Mathias had simply vanished off the face of the earth. No one had seen nor heard of Lord Cronqvist after his disappearance. Since the tactician had no heir or surviving relations, Mathias' estate would have been passed unto Leon. However, the crusader's disgrace in the courts was unforgotten, and some believed he had murdered the tactician in order to acquire his assets. Such groundless accusations enraged Leon, and he refused to claim his inheritance. Nevertheless, his innocence in the matter of Lord Cronqvist's disappearance remained dubious.

The former knight could have very well told the courts the truth of Mathias' betrayal, but who would believe him? Despite the sorrow Mathias wrought upon him, he did not wish to tarnish the legacy he left behind, for it was all that reminded the world – and himself – of his former friend's goodness. The Church and his fellow noblemen had thought him mad when he surrendered his title and lands to fight a vampire. To make matters worse, Sara's disappearance and the brutal murders of her relatives sparked even greater controversy. Leon, a man once honored and respected by all who knew the Belmont name, became hated and feared.

During his wanderings, he had to take great caution whenever he happened upon villages. Many times at least one person recognized his family name, which always resulted in his immediate banishment. People had even gone so far as to chase him out of their settlements by force, nearly impaling him with arrows, swords, and spears as he fled. Mathias' fame as one of the crusader's most beloved heroes inclined almost anyone Leon met to despise him instantly. A point finally came when he considered adopting an alias so people no longer associated him with the tactician's disappearance. However, upon reflecting upon the idea, he decided against it. No matter what people thought, he would never shame his own family name by hiding from it. Thus, he continued to introduce himself as Leon Belmont, and endured their prejudice and scorn. It would take the better part of a hundred years before the ill reputation associated with the Belmont clan receded into long forgotten memory.

Occasionally, rumors circulated about a power vampire that dwelled in a mountainous region of Romania, where the steep, jagged terrain was too treacherous for travelers. Determined to pursue his newest lead, Leon decided to follow the roads until the rocky terrain forced him to find his way through the surrounding forests. His once exquisite red and white surcoat was ragged and torn from years of wandering.

Throughout his journeys around Europe, he fought all sorts of monsters: undead zombies, harpies, skeletons, and lesser vampires were just a few he encountered on a regular basis. Monsters began appearing all across Europe, their origins unknown, but their sheer numbers were a cause for alarm. Leon had a growing suspicion that the appearance of monsters was no coincidence. Mathias was building his power somewhere deep in the mountains, undoubtedly using the Ebony and Crimson stones to summon undead demons from the darkness. The vampires he encountered on his journey were far less powerful than Walter was. They were humans bitten and transformed into senseless, raging fiends, without a conscience or memory of their former selves. He might have compared the lesser vampires to the young nobleman of the waterways, but his former adversary was also more powerful and dangerous than the vampires he encountered during his travels. Once a victim's humanity was completely lost, they were as brutal and vicious as a mad animal. None of the vampires he defeated could tell him who had turned them or Mathias' whereabouts.

One particularly cool evening, the knight was walking along the rough pathway when the howling cry of a wolf startled him. Although exhausted, he recognized that the howl belonged to a werewolf. A werewolf's howl was loud and possessed a human-like vocalization that was unmistakable. Leon immediately drew the Vampire Killer whip and searched for the beast. A thick, heavy fog had rolled in from the mountains and cloaked his surroundings in a silvery shroud. Werewolves were some of the most treacherous monsters. If he was not careful, one bite from their powerful jaws could sever a limb or – worse yet – turn him.

Leon quickly sighted the shadowy form of the beast sprinting through the trees, circling around him whilst low, ferocious snarls and growls vibrated from its throat. The creature was trying to frighten and confuse its prey, though the young man refused to move from his position in the middle of the pathway. The werewolf would have to face him on _his_ terms. He waited, patiently following the animal's dark, hulking form through the fog. When he did not try to run away as the creature might have expected, the werewolf changed tactics, and moved in for the kill directly. As the monster plunged toward him, Leon drew his arm holding the whip back, and struck the beast across the face. The werewolf was at least twice his size. It's limbs and hands were human-like, though its chest and back was covered in a thick layer of inky black fur. The beast's long hands, armed with powerful, razor-sharp claws, could tear a man in half with a single swipe. When the animal bared its teeth in outrage, its lips drew back, revealing pointed, gleaming white incisors. Two larger needle-like fangs protruded from the beast's upper and lower jaws. The creature's glowing red eyes eerily pierced through the fog.

The werewolf let out a howl in anger and rose upon its haunches. Leon dashed out the way when it swung its heavy, long arms in an attempt to slash him with its claws. He swung the whip a second time, bringing it across the creature's chest with a heavy crack. The werewolf doubled back in pain while furiously gnashing its incisors. Without allowing it another opportunity to attack, Leon struck the beast multiple times with the whip in quick succession. He thought he had gotten the better of the creature, until his ears caught the dreaded sounds of two other werewolves howling. The beasts would be upon him at any moment, and he was vastly outnumbered. When he managed to subdue the first werewolf, another emerged through the fog, snarling and growing with a hunger to devour the young man before he could defend himself. The two werewolves blocked the path in front and behind him, effectively trapping him.

Within seconds, the werewolf in front of Leon leapt upon him. The knight was no match against the werewolf's greater bulk and fell onto the ground. The beast's heavy body pinned him down, nearly crushing his ribcage. Its gaping maw came within inches of his face, fully prepared to tear him to pieces. Leon attempted to kick the creature off him, but its powerful hands and feet held him down with the strength of ten men. He could feel the monster's hot breath lick at his face; and the feel of its soft, black fur pressing against him sent chills down his spine. He could barely breathe; if he did not find a way to free himself, he would surely suffocate. The werewolf drew its head back as its glowing crimson eyes focused upon the knight's vulnerable jugular.

The moment the beast sought to tear his throat out, a horrible, whining howl sounded from its throat. Leon's azure eyes widened when his gaze fell upon the gleaming edge of a sword impaled through the beast's abdomen. Something pulled the sword out of the animal, and with one clean swipe, severed the werewolf's head clean off. Blood spurted into the air and drenched Leon's chest. With great effort, he managed to push the creature's heavy remains off him.

The knight's mouth almost fell open when his gaze fell upon a young woman standing over him holding a blood-covered sword. She wore thigh-high black boots and a short, navy blue robe over a sleeveless emerald green dress. The top of the robe folded over, revealing its silky blue-lined interior, as well as her sloping neck and shoulders. Her light, golden blond hair was plaited into a long, single braid. Her fair face looked upon him in concern.

"Are you all right?" She asked gently, while extending one of her gloved hands to him.

"I-I-yes, I'm fine." Leon took her hand.

A brief smile crossed her fine lips. She tall for a woman, and though her appearance gave the illusion of fragility, she helped him up with ease. "I was worried I was too late. Werewolves have become a common problem around here these past two years. Most people are not brave enough to travel these roads anymore."

Remembering there was still another werewolf, Leon clutched the whip and hurried down the road in search of it. "Stay back! There's still another somewhere nearby-"

"It's already dead." The lady called, just as he stumbled upon the body of the third werewolf. The knight stared down at the dead monster in surprise. The beast's chest and shoulders were impaled by numerous sword wounds. So many, in fact, that his eyes immediately returned to her. Before he could utter a word, she shook her head, her bright blue eyes shining as she walked leisurely toward him. "I didn't kill it."

Leon's gaze returned to the body in amazement. "Who could have done this?"

"I wish I could tell you, but I know not." She shrugged. When she stood within a few feet of him, her eyes scanned him closely. A mysterious smile appeared upon her face when she continued lightly. "Whoever did saved your life."

"As did you," He replied. "I am grateful. How, may I ask, did you happen to find me?"

"I was hunting in these woods," Her eyes glanced at the fog encompassing them. "I heard the werewolves howling, and sought them out. If I did not kill them, they would soon have been upon me."

Leon nodded, but curiosity had overcome him, and he could not help the desire to converse with his unlikely savior. "Isn't this a dangerous place to be hunting? You are alone."

To his surprise, a quiet chuckle escaped her lips, and a smile returned to her lovely face. "Are you fearful for me?"

"I was merely concerned." Leon replied, feeling his cheeks flush. With a respectful bow, he gave her an apologetic look. "Forgive my interference."

"I suppose I should tell you, I was not hunting game in these woods." She continued, the smile vanished from her face as quickly as it appeared. "I live in a village nearby. Two days ago, a vampire was rumored to have been seen roaming the woods near my home. I went out in search of it – against my mother's wishes, of course. Monsters have frequently attacked my village these past months. I have had to protect my mother, as well as the villagers, from the demons of the night."

Leon's breath hitched in his chest, and his eyes widened. "You were searching for a vampire?"

"Yes. I have not seen it with my own eyes, so I'm afraid I cannot describe it personally. Nevertheless, I think we have both endured enough for one evening. Why, if I may ask, are you wandering here? Visitors seldom travel this far."

"It seems we share a similar interest," he replied. He was uncertain of whether or not to continue, but her concern for him seemed genuine. After pausing a moment to collect himself, he placed a hand on his hip and turned away. His voice became quiet. "Someone close to me was tainted by a vampire, and I have been hunting them ever since."

"I am sorry to hear that." She lowered her head. Her fine lips formed a saddened frown. "I will not question you further then. Your reasons are your own."

"Forgive me, for I have yet to introduce myself." Leon turned to look at her once more. It had been a long time since he talked to a woman, let alone one who did not seem to fear traversing the forest alone. He realized he knew almost nothing about her, and her remarkable prowess in battle intrigued him. He swept a bow before her, the layers of his golden hair falling around his smooth, graceful face as he candidly introduced himself. "My name is Leon…Belmont."

"Ah, I beg your pardon Sir Belmont, for not doing the same." She replied, chuckling at her own forgetfulness. "I am Sonia Theissen."

They stared at each other for a long moment, trying to read the other's thoughts. After a lengthy silence passed, she ushered for him to follow. When she walked, her steps were light and swift. Her long, light blond braid swayed gently behind her. Although they had just met, she seemed confident about him, though he knew not why. Whereas others recoiled at the stigma of his family name, her indifference surprised him utterly.

She looked over her shoulder at him, her bright blue eyes inviting his company. "Well, Sir Belmont, you must be tired from your travels. Please, come with me to my village, and stay as a guest in my home. My mother runs an inn, and I am certain she would welcome you also. You helped destroy several werewolves near our village, and for that, you have my gratitude."

Despite her kindness, the former knight hesitated. The last thing he wanted was for her to drive him away once she discovered his family's ill reputation. With a sigh, he shook his head. "I thank you for your kindness, but I cannot accept."

"Why not?"

"My family is not very well liked as of late. I do not wish to bring trouble upon you and your household."

"No one will know your family name. Our village is secluded, and visitors are a rarity, I assure you."

"It is more than just that-"

"Whatever it was, I am certain it was no fault of your own." She said firmly. Her eyes scanned him carefully once again. The lady's perceptiveness caught the young man off guard. When he fell silent, she continued. "People judge what they do not know far too often. I can tell you are a good man, who has experienced a great deal of pain. Though, you might not reveal it, I can see it in your face. My sister had that very same look before she disappeared."

"How can you be certain I am what you think?" Leon asked. Though it was not his intention to chastise her for trusting him, he feared himself, even though he longed to accept her kindness. Those whom he cared for and trusted long ago were lost because of him.

The lady's hand brushed across the silver sword sheathed at her hip. With a shrug, she chuckled. "Because if you weren't I wouldn't have saved your life."

Though he wanted to resist, her unexpected kindness made him temporarily forget his loneliness. Sonia's insistence won him, and he accompanied her down the road.


	36. Chapter 36: Reunion

*****IMPORTANT NOTE***** Since the ending is over 70 pages in a word document, I decided to upload it in **TWO** parts so it would be easier to read.

**Chapter XXXVI**

The village was a modest arrangement of houses, with a tiny town square, church, and marketplace. Sonia's house was located just on the outskirts of the entrance. It was a small two-storey home with a thatched rooftop, situated on a hill overlooking a clear brook. The house was in want of repair – its shutters hung loosely by their hinges, and the small garden plot outside the front was overgrown, though carrots, pumpkins, and cabbage still managed to grow in the rough soil.

Upon his arrival, an elderly woman greeted him at the door. She was small, hunched over, and carried a walking stick. Her movements were slow, but she greeted the former knight warmly, and welcomed him without hesitation. Leon could tell guests had not visited the inn in quite some time because he was their only patron. Nevertheless, Sonia and her mother served him a warm meal and invited him to sit in a chair by the fireplace. It had been quite some time since Leon felt content, and he longed to repay their kindness. Although the house was in disrepair, he soon came to understand the reason. The mother was in failing health and her daughter, Sonia, was the only one left to care for the elderly woman. Lady Thiessen still managed to smile and never seemed bothered by their troubles. Every morning, Sonia hunted deer, rabbit, and foxes. Leon always accompanied her, and helped her clean and skin whatever they caught.

After three days of hunting and rest, Leon placed the animal pelts inside a heavy satchel and accompanied Sonia to the market. The sun set early in the mountains, and it was already dark by the time they reached the town square. Upon arriving, Leon was about to take the pelts to one of the market stalls when he fell still. His dark blue eyes widened, and he nearly dropped the pelts. Instinctively, his hand reached for the whip cinched at his waist belt, his fingers brushing across the coiled object when he froze, staring ahead.

Sonia touched his shoulder in concern. "What's wrong?" She asked.

Standing on the opposite side of the square was a slender, pale young man. The person was undoubtedly from a wealthy family, for his long, fine dark green silver-trimmed robe flowed around his graceful frame. Covering his robe was a dark gray cloak. His knee-high black boots, decorated with an elaborate silver plated steel pattern, glimmered faintly in the dying light. His smooth, refined features drew the former knight's attention instantly. The person's straight silky hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail tied with a dark green ribbon. Leon was about to approach him, but hesitated, and kept his distance. The stranger's hair gave him a somewhat prematurely aged appearance, despite his youth.

Uncertainty clouded the knight when he whispered. "Who is that man over there?"

Sonia seemed to know the subject of his attention the moment he asked. She glanced at the person, and replied calmly. "Ah, that is Lord Adalhart. I thought you might notice him. Everyone does whenever he visits."

"Lord Adalhart?"

"He lives near here, in the former estate of Baron Schwarzendrache, who died many years ago. Most nobles weren't interested in the property because it is considered remote and unprofitable. Crops struggle to grow in this region because the winter is so long and cold. People like Lord Adalhardt's company; he protects by killing werewolves that come too close to the village. Some thought he was a bit strange at first but he bothers no one. He rarely leaves his manor, but with skin as fair as his, the sun must not take too kindly to him."

Leon felt his blood run cold and the color drained from his face. He grasped the handle of the whip tightly in his fist. "He is very strange, indeed…"

The lady, aware of the fact his hand was upon the whip, immediately took him by the arm. Her action was so swift, Leon gasped when she looked at him sternly, her lips curving into a frown. "Please leave him be, Sir Belmont. I know his appearance is startling, but he means no harm."

"It's just…I thought…"

"He's a vampire?" She laughed good-naturedly, and gave him a mischievous look. "He is far too delicate and princely to be stalking people after dark. I think he would consider such behavior beneath him."

"If he is as frail as you say, how could he defeat a werewolf?"

"He is a skilled swordsman. I have never seen anyone control a blade as well as he. The last time he fought a werewolf, he cut the beast clean in half with ease. He does not converse with the villagers much, and perhaps, it is for the best. Personally, I find him a bit…surly. Now, if you please, I want to get a good price for these pelts before the market closes."

Leon wanted to know more, but night was setting in, and Sonia was getting impatient. Her financial situation was already precarious, and he did not want to inconvenience her. Yet, when his gaze returned to the strange nobleman, he tensed upon realizing the man had been watching him just as intently. Leon quickly averted his attention to the ground and turned away, unsettled by the man's steely gaze.

After he delivered the pelts to the local merchant, he accompanied Sonia home. As they walked, they began to tell stories to pass the time. He knew so little about her that the opportunity was a welcome one, and he temporarily forgot about the eccentric nobleman.

"I remember once," she began, her voice lightening as they left the square, walking side-by-side down the cobblestone road. "My mother used to own a cow. It had a crumpled horn, and for some reason took a dislike to me. Whenever I milked it, it would kick the bucket over and spill milk everywhere. If I happened to cross the brook where it grazed, it would chase me across the field relentlessly. One afternoon, I decided to cross the brook again, and she chased me until I found a tree and climbed it. In her haste, she charged right into the tree and managed to imbed her horn in its trunk. She tried to free herself to no avail; pawing at the ground and making such an uproar! She was absolutely frightened and furious with herself. Finally, I took pity on her, and asked my sister to help push her back from the tree. By then, the cow was so upset and exhausted that when we finally freed her, she turned round and charged right through a nearby mud puddle. My poor sister was nearest to the puddle, and was completely drenched in mud! For at least a month after, I called her 'mud princess.' She did not think it as funny as I for a long time."

Leon laughed. It had been so long since he had laughed at anything. Her life was vastly different than the lives of upper-class women. Most women he knew when he was a baron would never dream of revealing something so personal. It reminded him why he had loved Sara so much. Sara never pretended to be above anyone. Even though her father was a wealthy merchant, she treated everyone with respect and kindness.

"Such a story reminds me of long ago," Leon replied, feeling nostalgia overcome him. Memories filtered into his thoughts. "Someone I once knew used to enjoy horseback riding. I remember, one evening, she and I decided to take our horses for a quick race around her home. We were about to start, when a rabbit ran right in front of her horse's legs. The beast startled, and started galloping before she was ready. I chased after her on my horse, and just as I drew near enough to take hold of her, she tumbled onto the ground. At first, I was frightened beyond measure, and thought she might have injured herself in her fall. However, the moment I ran to where she had fallen, she lay on her back – laughing! After I overcame my initial distress – I could not help but laugh with her. She was a spirited girl, who cared more about the wellbeing of others than her own."

"Was she…someone you cared deeply for?" Sonia stopped in the road.

Her eyes traced his face sympathetically. When he gave no response, except to stand in a sullen silence, she stepped nearer to him. Her eyes met his, whilst her voice fell quiet.

"Grief is an all-too familiar part of my life, as well. My father died when I was three, and my sister passed away nary a month ago. I went out searching for her at nightfall and found her lying in the woods – bitten and killed by a vampire. The bite marks on her neck confirmed it. After werewolves began appearing in the forest, I was unable to hunt down the monster that took her life. Only my mother and I remain. Sadly, I do not know how much time she has left – her health has worsened since Beatrice's death. Nevertheless, we have each other, and for that I am grateful."

The former knight humbly bowed his head. He had never met someone as resilient as she. Although she was young, her strength of will astonished him. His heart ached to realize they had more in common than he ever could have imagined. Briefly, he wondered if the brute that had slain the innocent girl was Mathias. However, Sonia never mentioned seeing a man that matched his former ally's description, and he quickly dismissed the thought. It would not have been Mathias' nature to hunt peasants. Far darker ambitions most likely occupied the tactician's attention…

The sight of Sonia's sorrowful expression transformed his anger into concern. "If there is anything I can do to help Miss Theissen, please do not hesitate to ask."

The lady suddenly stopped in the middle of the pathway, her light blue eyes tracing his face. Surprised, Leon paused alongside side her, feeling her gaze catch his. "There is one thing…" She began, "You have been kind and helpful Leon. Yet, a life of wandering must become wearisome after a time. Surely you will stay a while?"

"I have already stayed too long. I do not wish to burden you and your mother further-"

"You are no burden!" Before he could continue, she gently took his hand in hers. "You deserve to be happy despite your troubles, Leon. I am an experienced hunter – I could help you destroy the creatures of the night."

Leon shook his head, feeling a lump form in his throat. The lady's gentle voice and kind eyes momentarily reminded him of Sara. The longer she held him, the more difficult it became for him to pull away.

"I chose this life and I must fulfill my promise. Forgive me, Sonia, but I cannot-"

"If you insist upon earning your keep, you can help my mother and I at the inn. You are a skilled hunter and the inn could use some work. We will pay you for your services and you shall be able to continue on your journey."

Leon hesitated. He did not want their money; for the empty rooms in the inn were telling, and he knew they could barely afford to eat as it was. Every day she mended clothes, cleaned rooms, repaired hunting equipment, fetched water from the well, and tended to the small garden plot. He feared for the wellbeing of Sonia and her mother, yet the darkness of Mathias' betrayal still throbbed like an open wound. His hand brushed across the whip at his side. The weapon pulsed softly in response.

A sad smile creased the corners of his lips. "Very well…I will stay a little while longer and will gladly work in exchange for lodging at your inn. Although I am grateful for your offer of payment, I cannot accept."

Sonia nodded, returning his smile. With the pale moonlight guiding their way, together, they continued along the path.

* * *

One evening, Leon was unable to sleep. Every so often, nightmares disturbed the frail peace he tried to maintain. He awoke in a cold sweat, panting heavily, his wide, blue eyes frantically searching the darkness. Without thinking, he reached for the whip and grasped the coiled weapon in his fist. The moment he touched the object, the whip's purple aura brightened. Leon sighed, feeling a sense of relief wash over him when he felt Sara's presence. Knowing he would be unable to return to sleep, he crawled out of bed and dressed himself. Very quietly, he opened the door to his chamber and crept downstairs. When he reached the sitting room, he lit a fire in the hearth and sat down in a chair. The warmth of the fireplace eased his tension.

Moments after sitting down, he saw Sonia quietly enter the room, her bright eyes focusing upon him in concern. She was fully dressed, with her silver sword sheathed at her side.

When her eyes met his, Leon rose from the chair and bowed his head. "I – did not mean to disturb you-"

A gentle smile crossed Sonia's lips. "You did nothing of the sort. I did not expect to see you awake. Are you all right?"

"Yes, thank you. I thought you had already gone to bed."

"I was going to do a bit of hunting." She began, hesitating a moment when the young man's eyes widened in concern. "I thought I heard a werewolf howl. It was probably nothing but I would rather not take any chances."

Leon stepped forward imploringly, his smooth lips curving into a slight frown. "May I accompany you? I don't like the idea of you hunting alone."

The lady paused, her bright blue eyes shining in the firelight. Taken aback by the suddenness of his request, she answered. "I-I suppose you can, if you wish, Baron Belmont." Sonia bowed. The moment she moved, her long, blond braid slipped over her shoulder. A barely noticeable tint of red appeared in her cheeks.

"Please, do not call me that." Leon replied, feeling a slight uneasiness fill him when her eyes met his once again.

He studied her intently; embarrassed by the fact that she had addressed him formally. He did not want to remember his past; though he knew that was not his only reason. The word _baron_, once a title he honored, made him feel detached from the warm, humble people he considered his only family. Leon tried to look away, nervously running a hand through the sun kissed locks of his golden hair.

A smile appeared upon his lips when he continued gently. "You are the master of the house. It is I who serves you, Miss Theissen."

The lady chuckled lightly, an amused glint reflecting in her eyes as she turned toward the door. Leon followed after her, trying to keep pace with her swift steps. The cool night air greeted them when they left the house and trekked toward the surrounding forest. Thousands of stars glittered in the black sky above. A lone crescent moon hovered in the sky, its pale light occasionally shrouded by thin layers of passing clouds. Leon walked by her side, avoiding looking at her directly.

Sonia was first to break the silence. The lady looked at him curiously, her fair face illuminated by moonlight. "The night is peaceful, isn't it?"

Leon continued walking, absorbed within his thoughts. A cotton-like tightness filled his throat when he looked at her again. When he finally forced the words to leave his mouth, his voice sounded oddly faint. "Yes, it is."

"I like the night, even though the dark sometimes frightens me. When I was young, I always wanted to sneak out at night. My mother told me unicorns lived in the forest and only appeared on starry nights. Even though I am not a child, before the werewolves came, I used to hunt at night – and when the sky was filled with stars, I would secretly hope to see a unicorn. Perhaps, I am rather foolish for believing such tales."

"I do not think so."

Leon chuckled. He could picture her as a child, staring out her window at night, hoping to catch a glimpse of a unicorn. It had been a long time since he had engaged in innocent conversation. He was so preoccupied with monsters that he had forgotten that beauty still existed in the world. For a moment, he gazed at the stars, wondering if a unicorn might appear. It was the first time he looked at the stars with the curiosity of a child instead of regret. A soft smile crossed his lips.

"Do you believe in unicorns?" Sonia asked, intrigued by the young man's serene expression.

"I have never seen one, but that does not mean they do not exist." Leon shrugged, adding under his breath. "I did not believe in vampires…only to discover they are very real."

"But there are beautiful things in this world, too. Like unicorns." Sonia whispered.

She stopped and turned toward the forest. Leon could see her searching the forest, still looking for a flash of white to appear amongst the trees. The moonlight made her golden hair appear almost white; giving her an ethereal look. The lady's silver sword gleamed in the light, reflecting the crescent moon in its metallic surface.

Leon stopped beside her, looking at her lovely face. His voice fell to a whisper. "Indeed…there are."

The moment he spoke, he caught himself and turned away. He ran a hand through his hair, nearly pulling it out upon realizing his indiscretion. He folded his arms across his chest, feeling the color drain from his face. He could not imagine what had prompted him to say such a thing. The young man lowered his head.

Sonia's gaze diverted from the forest, her lucid blue spheres falling upon him. "Leon…"

The former knight forced himself to face her once again. When their eyes met, he bowed deeply, his voice trembling in spite of his effort to remain composed. "I-I apologize, Miss Theissen. I did not mean to offend you."

"I am not offended."

"You are not?"

"Why should I be?"

"It is not my place to say such things." He stammered, feeling a hotness in his cheeks when she continued to look at him gently. "You have been kind and generous, and I-"

Barely visible within the brush was a pair of gleaming red eyes. Momentarily taken aback, Leon stared into the monster's luminous blood-red pools. Without the moonlight, he might not have realized something had been stalking them. Before the beast could leave its cover in the trees, he withdrew the vampire killer whip. A feral roar shattered the silence of the night when he struck the creature across the face with the tails of the whip. A spray of blood spattered into the night air. Leon barely had time to register what was happening before the creature's inky black form leapt out of the trees. The young man attempted to roll out of the way but was knocked to the ground by the monster's massive bulk. The werewolf's gaping maw hovered above his face, revealing rows of gleaming white incisors. With as much strength as he could muster, he fought against the creature's crushing grip and managed to land a blow against the beast's ribcage. A horrible whining snarl escaped the animal's throat when he kicked it off him and jumped to his feet.

Sonia stood behind the animal with her sword drawn. The moment it turned to face her, she swung the weapon, driving the razor-sharp edge of the blade across the creature's hip, nearly severing its leg completely off. Blood pooled on the ground around the beast's feet as it flattened its pointed ears against its head and roared in outrage. As Sonia took another swing at the creature's chest, it lunged toward her and effortlessly knocked her onto her back against the gravel path.

Leon ran at the wolf from behind, drawing his whip back as the beast dug its long, blackened claws into the woman's side. An anguished cry escaped her lips as she lay on the ground, nearly crushed beneath the man-wolf's sheer bulk.

Leon latched the end of the whip around one of the creature's arms and pulled against it, forcing the animal's hand behind its back. The werewolf turned its head to look over its shoulder, its dark red eyes blazing with renewed fury as the young man attempted to wrench it away. The creature ignored him and lifted its heavy form upon its haunches. It drew back its other arm to strike, prompting the knight to release the whip from its hand. With lightning speed, Leon swung the whip against the back of the beast's head. He managed to wrap the coils around the creature's throat and pulled, dragging the wolf back like a master yanking a dog on a leash.

In retaliation, the beast spun around, grasped the whip, and pulled against it. Leon fell against the ground, feeling a stinging sensation in his face as the beast dragged him across the gravel, reeling him in with the zeal of a fisherman landing a catch. Werewolves were far more intelligent than he initially realized. Even though its form was bestial, it was still capable of human thought. Dust and dirt flew into the air and covered his face. He let go of the whip when he came within a few meters of the beast. The werewolf lumbered toward him on all fours, the glossy sheen of its jet-black fur and the glow of its eyes its only distinguishing features from the shadow-cloaked night.

Leon attempted to roll out of the way, but the beast was far swifter than he, and was soon upon him. It rose upon its haunches once again, releasing a loud, howling cry to the moon before it lunged forward, drawing its arms back to tear him to pieces with its long, ebony claws. As its hulking form descended upon him, Sonia leapt in its path. She held the silver blade outward and up as the werewolf plunged upon them with its full weight. A gurgled, whimpering cry echoed through the lonely night when the blade penetrated its ribcage and heart. The tip of the sword jutted through the wolf's fur-covered back, its blade covered in a thick layer of blood. Leon immediately pushed the animal away.

Sonia lay on the ground, panting and gasping. She let go of the sword, pressing her hands against the serrated gashes in her side. Blood seeped between her fingers and pooled on the ground around where she lay. She tried to sit up and pressed her hands harder against her wounds in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. Her long, golden braid and clothes were covered in blood.

"Sonia!" Leon sat up and leapt to his feet, feeling a dizziness blur his vision as he regained composure. He kneeled beside her, examining the wound while she looked up at him, forcing her lips into a tiny smile.

With a breathless gasp, her trembling hand lightly touched his face. "I'm fine; I just…need to rest for a moment…that's all…"

Leon could tell by looking at her that she was certainly the contrary. The wounds in her side were deep and continued to bleed despite her efforts to cover them. He got to his feet, picked up the vampire killer whip, and cinched the weapon to his hip. Cautiously, he stepped toward the body of the werewolf to ensure it was dead. The animal's carcass lay across the gravel, its mouth agape and ruby red eyes open and still.

When he attempted to help her stand up, she waved him away. "No – I can walk. Just…give me a moment…to catch my breath."

With what little strength she seemed to have left, she stumbled unsteadily to her feet. Blood trickled down her legs. She let out a cry of pain, and within seconds, lost her balance and nearly fell. Leon wrapped his arm around her, catching her before she hit the ground. He lifted her into his arms, pressing her against his chest as he ran down the path.

"Stay with me Sonia!" He whispered, his voice pleading for her to remain awake. Her eyes slowly opened and closed, and he could see the color drain from her face.

"Don't worry…Leon. I will…be fine…"

Sonia breathed, her blue eyes looking into his. Before he could reply, her eyes closed, and she fell limp.

* * *

Leon stayed by Sonia's bedside the weeks following the attack. After countless days and sleepless nights, she began to recover. Every evening the young man would sit in a chair at her bedside, praying she would not die. He did not know what he would do if her life slipped away. As long as his body allotted, he stayed awake – watching over her to ensure she was still breathing. No matter how exhausted he felt, he stayed with her through the lonely nights and sunlit days, longing for her to awaken once again.

One long, dark evening, he felt something warm touch his hand. Sonia rested her hand upon his. It was the first time he saw her move since the night he carried her home. Leon rose from his chair and leaned over her, brushing his other hand across her cheek.

He stroked her hair, feeling her hand tighten around his until the barely audible sound of her voice drifted through the darkness. "Leon…?"

"Yes, Sonia. It is I." He reassured her, the softness of his voice easing her tension somewhat. A gentle smile appeared upon his lips. She lifted her other hand and touched his face, feeling the smooth contours of his cheeks as if to affirm his presence was not imaginary.

"You stayed with me…" She breathed.

"Of course. I would never leave you." Leon whispered.

The moment he spoke, he caught himself. When he had gone to her that fateful night and carried her back home, memories of Sara entered his mind. His fear of Sonia dying was much deeper than could explain. The moment he gazed at Sonia's beautiful face in the moonlight, it confirmed what he already felt – and feared feeling again. In her presence, the brokenness inside his soul seemed to disappear, or at the very least, no longer define him. If Mathias discovered the nature of his feelings, the possibility of endangering her was too much to bear. Sonia was an exceptional fighter but she had already lost her sister and numerous other friends to the monsters of the night.

With a heavy sigh, he took her hand in his. "You saved my life – again. I will not dishonor you by leaving you while you are in this state. However, my presence here has wrought only suffering, and I wish to burden you no longer. When you are well, I must continue my travels."

Sonia withdrew a breath, her eyes glistening in the darkness. "What do you mean by suffering?"

An intensity appeared in her eyes,. Without hesitating, her other hand cupped the young man's face. Tears slowly began to trickle down her face, staining her soft cheeks, and drawing his gaze back to her once again. Leon could not speak; he did not fully realize he was trembling until she squeezed his hand.

"I have never cared for someone as much as I care for you, Leon. You are kind and gentle, and always place your concern for others above yourself. I know you vowed to hunt the night – and I shall respect that with all my heart – but it will not change my love for you. Perhaps, to know love, one must know what it feels like to lose it…as the old saying goes. How I wish that were not the truth."

"Perhaps…it needn't be." Leon whispered, feeling ashamed for the pain he had caused her. "I did not want to compromise the compassion you have shown me by endangering you further."

"Love does not need to be a compromise." She answered.

Leon considered her words. If he left, what was left for him except memories? He could no longer deny himself the chance to choose his own path in life. Whatever happened in the future, he and Sonia would face it together. After drawing a nervous breath, he leaned over her and covered her lips with his own. He drew her into his embrace, hoping that the precious time they had together would never end. For the first time, he tasted the sweetness of her lips, and felt the soft wisps of her long, golden blonde hair brush across his cheek. She wrapped her arms around him and they held each other in the darkness.

After a long while, he tucked her into bed and slipped toward the door of the room. When he turned to leave, Sonia's voice gently called to him. "You will always have a home here, Leon."

"Thank you." He bowed his head, feeling his cheeks flush when he continued. "I-I must speak with your mother now, I shall return as soon as I can."

"My mother?" Sonia raised an eye brow.

"Yes." Leon answered. He placed a hand on his hip and ran his other hand through his hair when the color in his cheeks reddened. "I must ask her for permission to court you. I pray she will consent to my request."

"What if she does not?" She asked jokingly.

Leon straightened as concern washed across his face. His eyes widened, and he paused a moment, trying to consider what he would do if such a circumstance occurred. "I…do not know. Perhaps I could inquire as to how I might receive her approval…"

With a smile, Sonia closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep.

* * *

As time passed, Leon's desire for vengeance ebbed somewhat. Once an outsider, the village slowly began to feel like home. Although the villagers recognized by his manner and speech that he was not raised among peasantry, his willingness to protect the village from further werewolf assaults earned him respect. The Belmont name had still not overcome its tarnished reputation and Mathias still haunted his thoughts. Every evening, he and Sonia ventured into the surrounding forest to hunt werewolves and monsters. Even though he always carried the Vampire Killer whip, he had not slain a vampire in almost two years.

Leon opened the door of the inn and stepped into the darkness beyond. A crescent moon hung in the sky, its dim light casting a thin shadow of the former knight across the ground. He could not resist the urge to hunt the demons of the night. Since his arrival in the village, he and Sonia's efforts to cull the werewolf population had been very successful, and they were determined to ensure it remained so.

However, nightmares still haunted his thoughts. He could not entirely forget the image of the pale nobleman, nor his striking resemblance to the village's eccentric lord. He had not set eyes upon Lord Adalhart since his arrival two years earlier. The lord had simply vanished without a trace and no one seemed to know what became of him. Rumors circulated soon after that werewolves might have killed him during one of his nightly hunts. The forest manor in which Lord Adalhart had lived was found abandoned. Even though the lord was believed to have lived near the village for two years prior to Leon's arrival, the manor was in such a state of disrepair that no one could have lived in it for more than a decade. Even more curiously, the lord had never hired any servants to tend to his manor or invited guests – so no one could completely confirm the reason for his absence.

As time passed, Leon's restlessness consumed him. Even though he had established a new life for himself in the village, there was one last thing he wished to put to rest before he could reclaim peace. Thus, after weeks of preparation, he decided to revisit the night a final time. When he told Sonia his intention, she reluctantly consented to his wish. Sonia, more than anyone, understood the great burden he carried with him every day since he left Eternal Night.

On a cold September evening, Leon made his final preparations for the journey.

"How I wish I could accompany you! It has been too long since I last held a sword."

Sonia stood in the doorway of the inn holding a small candle. The candle's dim light cast a soft glow across the former knight's face. His bright blue eyes gleamed in the darkness. Every time he went out hunting, he adorned himself in the clothes he wore during his trials at Eternal Night. Although a bit frayed, the long white robes seemed to restore his former regality.

Leon bowed his head. He reached out to her, taking her hand. "Though I would wish nothing more than to have you fight by my side, you protect something far more important than my life." His lips gently kissed the smooth surface of her hand.

When she moved her hand holding the candle slightly closer to herself, its light illuminated her swollen stomach. "If you do not come back, I will go out and look for you myself."

"I will return. I promise with my whole heart."

Sonia chuckled, her eyes brightening. "Consider this a temporary rest for me then. I will not relinquish my sword until I find the monster that killed Beatrice. Be careful, Leon."

"You above all know I have every reason to live."

He attempted to assure her, but he knew Sonia meant every word. She was just as capable a fighter as he was, but the delicate nature of her condition made him determined to ensure she would not put herself at needless risk. Though the news that new life grew in her womb filled him with joy, he simultaneously regretted the fact she could not accompany him. With a soft sigh, he embraced her – already missing her presence before he had even begun his journey. His bright blue eyes filled with renewed optimism. One of his hands lightly touched her stomach, and he was unable to withhold a smile when he felt the unborn child within give a faint kick. From the corner of his eye, he noticed the whip's dim purple aura pulse softly. As he gazed upon his future heir, delight overcame his sorrow.

The day he married Sonia was one of the most joyous days Leon could remember since he left Eternal Night. A part of him would always lament Sara's passing and what could have been. Sara had only ever desired his safety and wellbeing. If he had lived the rest of his life in seclusion – never again partaking in the precious gifts that life offered – he would have dishonored her sacrifice. If he squandered the remainder of his life feeling only a desire for revenge and hatred, he would be no different from Mathias. Elisabetha's death had ruined the tactician. Mathias wanted the young knight to succumb to the same fate he chose.

Both he and Sonia were the last remaining descendents of their family lines. It seemed, all too often, families disappeared into the dark depths of history. Plague, feminine, war, and tragedy had nearly succeeded in destroying the Belmont name. Both his mother and father died during his first campaign in the east when a terrible plague struck his domain. He was the youngest of four children - his two sisters and only brother died before he was born. They had barely known life before they departed to heaven, leaving only Leon as the sole heir to his family name.

Leon and Sonia had been married barely six months when she discovered she was with child. Sonia's pregnancy created new hope within Leon. The Belmont clan, once a disgraced and dying name would continue. He had fulfilled his promise to Sara – that with the aid of her soul, the Belmont clan would not let anyone else suffer her fate. Though he cursed himself for leaving during his wife's pregnancy, Sonia's mother would care for her during his absence, and he promised to return before the child was born.

* * *

Nothing could have prepared him for what he found upon his return to Eternal Night. The castle, reduced to a mess of rubble and debris, once more bathed in the pale white light of the full moon. With the same ominous glory, it stood before him as if untouched for centuries. Leon gasped at the sight, feeling a sickness in his stomach that made him want to wretch. Although the night no longer protected the castle with its unending darkness, it persevered. Something inside him screamed at the thought that Walter somehow escaped Mathias' capture and returned to restore his home to its former magnificence. It was impossible – he had seen Mathias seal Walter's soul into the crimson stone. It was then that he understood. Walter never could have restored the castle as long as Mathias claimed ownership over the vampire's soul and power.

But there was someone else who could.

Monsters had risen again to dwell within the castle's vast corridors and rooms. It did not take long for the former knight to fight his way to the castle's throne room, for the layout of the pagoda was still vaguely familiar. When he finally arrived before the throne room door, he withdrew a breath – not knowing who or what lay beyond it. Leon pushed the door open and stepped inside.

His light blue eyes instantly fell upon a lone figure seated upon the throne. Shoulder length straight, silvery white hair framed the creature's deathly white face. He could feel the demon's eyes focus upon him the moment he entered, stabbing him with their hatred and bored curiosity. The being's hands rested stiffly upon the throne's gold arms whilst its long, claw-like fingernails tapped irritably upon its hard surface. Beautiful flowing indigo colored robes draped the throne as it sat there, looking at him, its lips formed into sullen scowl. The moment he arrived, Leon knew the vampire had been waiting for him. The creature looked no different than the day the former knight first laid eyes upon him. Evidently, whatever disguise he had been wearing during his time in the village had long since been cast aside. Leon wished to speak, but he could find no words to express his thoughts. As he stood in the middle of the empty space, gazing at the demon's extraordinary appearance, his hand reached instinctively for the vampire killer whip.

The creature's eyes flitted immediately to the whip. With a low huff, his voice reverberated off the walls of the hollow space.

"I have been expecting you," he began coolly. "I knew you wouldn't resist the temptation to know how Eternal Night was able to rise from mere rubble and dust."

The vampire tossed his head, curtaining his displeasure behind a veil of shoulder-length ashen hair whilst he added, his lips curling into a sneer.

"You are responsible for Walter's defeat. The privilege of destroying him deserved to be mine, human."

Joachim scanned his adversary carefully. Leon was tall, slender, and possessed unusually fair skin. Wisps of thick, straw colored hair fell around the young man's face and was parted neatly on the left side. The long, red-trimmed white surcoat, tight black pants, and silver gauntlets indicated the majority of his life was spent on the battlefield.

Leon's azure blue eyes widened. "What…? How are you still alive?" He asked, entering the room without the slightest hesitation. The soles of his boots thumped gently across the marble floor's glassy surface."I defeated you and saw you disintegrate. Surely, this is impossible-"

"Foolish knight," The white-haired vampire shook his head. As if speaking to a child, he crossed his legs, his voice darkening. "Your weapon was not powerful enough to kill me."

Leon glanced from the vampire to the whip coiled at his side. His gauntlet-covered hand touched the weapon delicately. "My whip was not yet complete when we met, but I have no reason to fight you now that Walter has been defeated."

"Why did you return?" Joachim hissed, his lower lip curling whilst he shifted in the throne. He raised his head, curtaining his displeasure and unease behind veils of ashen hair. "If you want to challenge me again, I would be more than glad to accept!"

Anger seeped through the vampire's voice like poison, and his pale eyes flashed a shade of crimson. It was painful for him to think about his humiliating defeat. Like wood stoking flames, revenge permeated through his thoughts when he looked at Leon's stunned expression. The knight, though possessing the courage of a lion, was surprisingly gentle.

With a reluctant sigh, Leon shook his head. "I do not want to fight you. Enough blood was spilt already. Far too much…"

"Really?" The vampire chided. "I may not give you the option. Should you not seek peace with God like a good Christian? What of your company and domain?" Joachim could see the pain in the knight's eyes. "How tragic!" The coldness in the vampire's voice betrayed his pitying look.

Leon sighed. "I will not fight you, unless you intend to harm others. Sara did not want anyone to suffer and become what _you_ are."

Joachim raised an eyebrow and shifted once again. Despite loathing the knight, Leon's words injured him slightly. He rested his chin in his hand, his sallow skin gleaming in the room's dim torchlight like snow. It occurred to him, that since the time of his turning, he had not realized how far he had fallen. God would surely rebuke him in favor of the valiant knight.

"What am I?" The pale creature asked, his icy eyes transfixed by the pensive look that appeared upon his adversary's calm visage.

Leon bowed his head. "I do not know what you have endured. How long were you in the waterways? It must have been a lonely existence."

Wild, unabashed laughter fled the white-haired creature's lips. He tossed his head playfully, whilst his long fingernails dug into the arms of the throne. Though his lips formed an amused smirk, a flicker of sorrow and dread appeared in his eyes. "Oh, I had companions. A knight like yourself came in peace but left in pieces. The rats. I dare say, I shall never drink from vermin again, no matter how great my hunger grows! But it doesn't matter…now that this castle belongs to _me_."

Leon's eyes narrowed and he stepped forward, his fingers brushing across the coiled whip at his side. "What have you done these past years, now that you are no longer Walter's prisoner?"

"Prisoner?" Joachim's laughter ceased. A hiss escaped his lips from the thought. "I was never his _prisoner_, though he liked to think t'was so."

Memories flooded through Joachim's mind. More than anything, he hated the darkness as much as he feared it. The four, lonely walls, the three cruel swordsmen statues, the rushing of water in the chamber beyond, and the howling wind whistling through the sealed doorframe. He did not want to think about how much time had passed in that room. If he did, his heart and mind would have surely broken completely. Even after escaping, hollowness consumed him. The sight of the stars, the moon, and the outside world should have comforted him. Yet, he felt nothing. For so long his mind had suffered in the waterways, and his ability to feel anything – empathy, pain, grief, and despair – was overcome by bloodlust. It seemed ironic to be in the presence of the same man who had killed him and saved him simultaneously. Had the knight failed, he would have remained locked in the sordid waterways…forever.

Upon detecting the creature's growing hunger, Leon grasped the whip in his hand. The object's dull purple light pulsed faintly when he touched it. "If you intend to do others harm, I will stop you!"

"You will try." The vampire shook his head, allowing the mocking smirk to return to his lips. Like a cat toying with its prey, he eyed Leon cynically. "Do you know what thirst does to a vampire?"

"No, I do not." Leon replied. Then, as if considering the question, uncertainty clouded his resolve.

"I suggest you refrain from speaking on matters beyond your comprehension." Joachim's smirk faded. Memories threatened to break his fragile composure. Even without thinking, he could see the blood veins running beneath the young man's beautiful, smooth skin. The sight of it tormented him. "I have no choice except to hunt. Is it not natural for a wolf to hunt a deer? Is it not necessary for humans to hunt wild game?"

"You are twisting the truth!" The young man's calm eyes became alight with a sudden fire. "Vampires take pleasure from killing innocents and spreading the curse to others. Walter enjoyed his games!"

"Corruption exists in vampires and humans alike." A shadow appeared across Joachim's elegant visage and his eyes glinted a shade of crimson when he added, giving the knight an accusing glare. "Don't tell me humans gain no pleasure from killing. You fought countless battles in the name of God. I wonder what God thinks of men who kill in His name? You break the very commandments you hold sacred, unholyknight." It pleased him to test Leon's patience.

Leon returned his glare, and his posture tensed. "I have fought in the name of God, but I do not enjoy killing the same way you do!"

"There is a difference between enjoyment and necessity, human." Joachim huffed.

Despite baiting Leon, the knight's unfaltering beliefs were exhausting his patience. When silence fell between them, he rose from the throne, his slender form levitating above the floor like an apparition. Not to his surprise, Leon's fingers tightened around the whip and his body tensed in anticipation. However, the pale youth merely cast a glance at the weapon cinched at Leon's hip. Joachim cringed. His silent heart ached when he sensed the sorrow emanating from the whip. It was a feeling he could not quite form into words even if he tried. The vampire broke his gaze and parted his lips, revealing the whites of his ivory fangs.

"You did not answer my question. Why are you here, Leon…?"

"Belmont." The knight stood his ground. With a reluctant sigh, Leon's eyes drifted to the floor and his voice, once bold, softened. He brushed aside strands of his golden hair. Tension appeared in his eyes and he paused, pursing his lips, before he answered. "I did not expect that the vampire I defeated would rule this domain. You followed me for more than two years…why? Why did you help the villagers by killing werewolves and try to hide what you truly are?"

The pale youth flicked back the tails of his long, indigo colored robe. The beautiful silver lining his armored breastplate and boots shimmered in the shadow-cloaked room. An eerie, purple aura surrounded him while he floated toward his adversary, his eyes focusing upon the knight's smooth, delicate face and sloping neck. Though he could have attacked, the power emanating from the whip was not to be taken lightly. With a hiss, he floated in a slow circle around the young man, delighting in the fact that Leon refused to turn his back for moment. As he swept around the human, Leon spun around to face him, their eyes locking. He could hear the man's heartbeat increase.

"It's too bad," The night dweller chided. "I could not kill you last time we met, Belmont. Your blood would have tasted sweet, and your head would have made a rewarding trophy."

"I would apologize for defeating you, if I meant it." Leon retorted with a defiant scowl; evidently, unfazed by the vampire's close proximity.

If Joachim wished it, he could have pushed the knight back with his thoughts. Yet, Leon's boldness intrigued him, and a slow, sardonic grin creased the corners of his fine lips."Run along back to your company. Fight more battles for God against those your church labels 'heathens.'" The vampire whispered, whilst eying the young man impatiently.

"I am no longer associated with the company." The young man lowered his head. The moment he spoke the admission, his voice was oddly faint. "I had to relinquish my title in order to save Sara."

To this, the vampire was uncertain how to respond. Without needing to hear it, he could see the wounded look in the knight's cerulean eyes. He had every reason in the world to not pity Leon. Yet, he could not understand why some small part of him felt a twinge of empathy. The creature remembered what he was, despite the torment he endured in his solitary prison. It had taken him far too long to realize that deadness haunted his pale, cold gaze.

"Return to your domain." He replied, giving the young man a dismissive flick of the hand. As if instantly, his desire to kill the mortal dissipated into disappointment. "A human pest like you will simply get in my way."

"I will not leave knowing you will rule in Walter's place!" Leon returned the creature's smile with a determined scowl. The knight had been surprisingly cordial until that point. However, upon hearing his continuance, a bright red glint flashed through the white-haired vampire's eyes."I should send you back into the darkness from whence you came. Yet, by doing so, I would as cruel as Walter. However, the idea of you remaining free-"

"I will never return to that Godforsaken pit!"

The pale nobleman bared his fangs and focused his thoughts upon his swords. Rage filled every fiber of his injured soul at the mere threat of being cast into the shadows once again. He would easily choose death over the cold, forlorn prison in the waterways. Gnashing his teeth, he allowed his five massive blades to whirl around him. Like a wounded animal, the creature roared, his voice trembling with the fury of a thousand curses.

"I dare you to try and send me there, human! I would drag you into hell with me before I would return to that place! Although you defeated me once, I have grown stronger since our last spar, and the taste of your blood will only aid my recovery. You fought me when I was weak, starving, and desperate. Hardly a victory; you were merely _fortunate_."

Leon's hand seized the whip and withdrew it, cracking the floor between them with a deliberate swing of the arm. If Joachim so much as considered summoning one of his swords, the knight was prepared to counter attack.

"That may be so," he snapped. "But it does not change the fact you are dangerous. Like Mathias, you renounced God and humanity-"

"What makes you think I had a choice?" Like an angry python coiled to strike, the white-haired nobleman's frame tensed. Pain flooded across his refined features. Barely withholding the will to slash the knight's throat open with his bare hands, he hissed under his breath. "Of course _you_ think I wanted this fate, Belmont. You know nothing of this life."

"I know what it did to Sara!" Leon replied. "The sacrifice she made...was enough." A twinge of vulnerability threatened to crack his brave façade. Like the fragments of a broken mirror, Leon's eyes shone as if a dagger had pierced his fragile heart.

Upon hearing the knight's last words, the vampire's voice was suddenly lost to him. Joachim's pale eyes froze, their wide, icy spheres glinting sadly in the candlelight.

"I have seen too much suffering." Leon shook his head, continuing grimly. "There must be a way…I could leave here at peace with myself. Even though I vowed to hunt your kind, I do not want to harm you. You, too, suffered because of Walter."

"Suffered?" Joachim tossed his head, curtaining his disgust behind a veil of silky white hair. One of his claw-like fingernails brushed the loose strands away from his face as his cold, gray eyes surveyed the human. "Walter inflicted far more than mere suffering upon me. Had you not interrupted my plans, things would have changed, eventually. Confinement made me patient, and gave me time to perfect my powers."

"Perhaps, but you lost when we fought. You owe me a great debt." The knight insisted. Something liken to sympathy appeared in Leon's eyes when the vampire spoke of Walter's crime upon his soul.

"Debt?" Joachim raised an eyebrow, barely suppressing the urge to laugh – or scorn – the thought. "I can't believe you think I owe a debt to a _human_! What a ridiculous-"

"Not even you could have expected your defeat would break Walter's seal over the door! My whip was incomplete; so you could return to your current state – and obtain freedom."

"Are you suggesting that because you _killed_ me, I was…_freed_?" Repugnance swept across the creature's visage.

"The seal imprisoning you lifted when I defeated you. You know as well as I that is why you were able to leave. Now, I must face the possibility that I have done the world more harm by liberating you."

"If you regret it so much, why not battle me again?"

"I…cannot." Leon made a small gesture of futility. With a heavy sigh, he shook his head. "I have killed enough. Even knowing what you are, I would stain my conscience further if I killed you. I sense a strange feeling from this whip that is neither rage nor hatred. Perhaps, there is still a chance…a reason why the whip does not react the same way it did when I defeated Walter."

A tiny smirk spread across the creature's fine lips. Impatience threatened to break his interest in their conversation; however, the knight's unwavering integrity allured him. Upon seeing Leon's confusion, Joachim's eyes narrowed, and he whispered silkily.

"The death of your beloved has made you weak. Although you want to leave the past behind, the past will not leave you, evidently…"

"That is why I returned. Apparently, the _past_ accompanied me."

The young man's eyes seemed much darker than the vampire remembered them being during their meeting in the waterways. Pain resonated through the knight's soul and seemed to steal away the innocence he once possessed. Like a lost soul consigned to purgatory, Leon remained trapped between the realms of light and darkness. The fact that he returned to Eternal Night, even after his purpose was complete, confirmed that both he and his unlikely savior had more in common than either wished to admit.

"I wish to know your intentions." Leon added carefully, ignoring the creature's penetrating glare. "No one else will suffer Sara's fate, and if you give your word that you will not harm humans-"

Joachim raised an eyebrow, and suppressed the urge to laugh at the absurdity of the knight's request. Not to his surprise, Leon seemed completely baffled by his refusal, which compelled the vampire to rebuke him instantly.

"Only a _human_ would ask something so ridiculous! Asking me not to kill is like asking a lion not to hunt, or a wolf not to tear apart the throat of a lamb! The laws of nature apply to all things in this world; vampires are no exception."

"But you are not an animal," Leon persisted. Urgency appeared in his eyes whilst he raised his hand and pointed his index finger at the other nobleman. "You were once human and capable of reason."

"Reason perhaps, but the urge to kill is beyond it. In the waterways, I was forced to feed off vermin to sustain myself. Without blood, a vampire is doomed to become a slave to instinct-"

"Perhaps we can negotiate?" Unwilling to relent, the knight stepped toward him, his cerulean eyes narrowing.

"There will be no _negotiating_, Belmont."

The hunter's obstinate refusal to let the matter rest puzzled Joachim. He tossed his head, curtaining his displeasure behind the veil of his pearly white hair. Though impressed by Leon's courage, the vampire was as stubborn as he was vicious. With brutal efficiency, his mind sent one of his swords away. The blade careened past Leon's head, narrowly missing the man's cheek before colliding into the throne room's furthest wall. Loud laughter filled the chilling silence between them, as the pale young nobleman floated toward the throne and seated himself once again, giving the knight a sour look. To his surprise, Leon did not even flinch.

Joachim crossed his legs and flicked his hand, dismissing the knight not unlike a king addressing a servant. "If you wish, try to kill me for being what I am. Certainly, others who wander into this forest may, for humans scorn me and always will."

"I…do not…" Leon whispered. "When Sara was turned, I almost could not bring myself to kill her, despite her inhumanity. Even though she willingly sacrificed her life, a part of me feels I betrayed her."

To this, Joachim looked away, his voice lowering. "You killed her because she would become a vampire, eventually. Like me."

"Sara did not want to lose her humanity, and I respected her wishes!" Leon retorted. "But that does not mean I wanted death to be her fate. If you will rule Eternal Night in Walter's place, the cycle of pain and suffering must end. I cannot allow the possibility of you helping Mathias-"

Joachim wanted to chuckle at the young man's suggestion but refrained, for the idea of working for the fallen tactician was well beneath him. The vampire's smooth lips curled whilst he shook his head.

"You have nothing to fear concerning Mathias and I, Belmont, for we are far from comrades. As long as I do not have the Ebony Stone in my possession, light will return to this forest. I suppose, I can no longer call this castle Eternal Night…at least, not until the stone is returned to its rightful owner..._myself_, of course."

Joachim was a predator by nature, and enjoyed the hunt even more than the kill. The prospect of tracking down the tactician-turned-vampire was necessary. Indeed, the consequences of living without the protection of the night were potentially fatal. Bitterness seeped into the vampire's eyes whilst he contemplated the precariousness of his situation. The world may have changed since his imprisonment within the castle depths, but he had not. Like the god Loki, he had suffered a terrible punishment, and would seek retribution for the loneliness that threatened to devour him like a savage beast. He would tear away the chains of servitude and rule in Walter's place. One by one, the shackles of fear and despair would be undone, and he would forget the pain and humiliation plaguing his tortured mind. Memories surfaced within his thoughts – of a once proud young man crawling across a worn floor until reaching a barren, dirt wall and clawing at it with the ferocity of a caged animal. _I won't be forgotten!_ Screams of anguish had filled the prison, and tears fell from his eyes until despair and hunger drowned his hope. The sound of water falling beyond the room's heavy stone door tormented him like a siren's song; reminding him that a world still existed beyond its confines. All at once, Joachim's confident disposition gave way to unspoken terror.

He forgot that the knight was still watching him, and almost ignored the young man's alarmed query.

"Are you all right?" Leon's body tensed upon seeing the vampire's claw-like fingernails digging into the arms of the throne. Joachim's icy blue eyes became glassy, and he looked away. "There must be a way to ease your hunger so that you do not harm innocents."

Suddenly, the creature's pale eyes filled with sadness. With a heavy sigh, his gaze drifted to the gated windowpanes lining the massive throne room. The room was entirely empty save he and the former knight. Indeed, it reminded him that nothing remained of his past except for Leon and Mathias. Everyone else who knew him was dead. Though the castle had rebuilt itself and accepted him as its new master, his existence would create only ruin upon others.

"You asked me why I followed you. Initially, it was because I wanted to _kill_ you."

An amused glint flickered in the creature's dead gaze. When Leon's eyes widened, he continued, deliberately ignoring the former knight's disgusted scowl.

"When you left, I pursued you at a distance. The more I watched you, the more I realized that death would have been a _gift_, for your suffering did not end with Walter's defeat as I thought it would. Instead of killing you, I satiated my hunger with the blood of werewolves. Forests are teeming with so many of those mutts that I scarcely went without blood for more than two days. I needed to get away from Eternal Night and sought refuge in a tiny hamlet near the mountains. When I was..._alive_, I had always wanted to know what mountains looked like up close."

Something akin to nostalgia appeared in the vampire's eyes a moment. He paused as if to collect himself, his eyes flitting briefly around the room before falling upon the human once again.

"The blood of werewolves is hardly satisfying. It reeks of mongrel and tastes wretched despite the fact its essence is human. I knew I could not sustain myself for long. They grew suspicious of my habits and it was only a matter of time before I would have been discovered. When the presence of werewolves inevitably led you to the village, I relinquished my disguise…"

"Why?" Leon asked. He could sense the vampire wanted to evade the topic. A long silence followed. The pale nobleman broke eye contact and turned away. When the creature refused to continue, Leon felt his patience wearing thin. Without hesitating, he pressed the demon further."You did not leave simply because I arrived. Something happened…did you…hurt someone?"

"What if I did?" The vampire hissed, his eyes hardening upon sensing the horror in the former knight's gaze. "A long time had passed since I killed and drank from a human. However, one momentary loss of control…changed everything. Though she was not in werewolf form at the time, the wretched taste of beast was in her blood. I should have known that it was impossible for me to ever live among humans again. Long before, there had been another time when I succumbed to my thirst…and paid a terrible price…"

Leon felt no desire to inquire further, for he already understood the significance of the demon's crime. He picture's Sonia's tear-filled eyes when she had told him about her sister's death. Even though he wanted to loathe Joachim, he could not bring himself to destroy him. If a werewolf had already bitten Beatrice, it was only a matter of time before she would have fallen to the will of the beast. He realized Sonia could have had to make the same difficult decision he was forced to make when Sara was turned. Yet, he did not wish to think that Beatrice's death was compassionate. There was nothing compassionate about being doomed by _both_ a werewolf and a vampire. Sorrow filled him to think that, despite Joachim's longing for humanity, fate forever banished him to the shadows. Although the night dweller skillfully concealed his thoughts, Leon could feel regret and anger surging beneath the creature's calm mask.

A long silence followed. When it seemed like it would never end, the vampire at last concluded.

"I returned to Eternal Night…only to discover that the castle had risen again. More than two years have passed since our last meeting, and I have confined myself within this place. Your whip could end me once and for all."

"I will not kill you!" Leon shook his head. "I know you are not the same creature I met in the waterways - if you wanted to kill me, you would have attacked me, as you did before."

"Although I want nothing more than to tear out your throat," The demon snapped. "I suggest you leave while you have the chance…as I may not be so inclined to spare you, should you overstay your welcome, _human_."

Leon turned away, incensed by the vampire's cold dismissal, but hardly surprised. "Very well," He reluctantly consented. "There is someone I must talk to. However, you will not get rid of me so easily, vampire. I hope our next meeting will not end as it did before."

"Indeed it will not, for I am much stronger than the starving fiend you met years ago. Even with your new toy, victory is never a guarantee."

A tiny smile flickered across the pale creature's lips. His sharp, pale eyes surveyed the former knight with mock interest. When Leon was about to turn to leave, the vampire's voice cut through the silence like a dagger through flesh. His once harsh tone lifted somewhat when his gaze fell upon the whip.

"Tell me, Belmont. What made your whip _complete_? I used to think that senile old man was spinning tales when he told me a mere whip was capable of defeating Walter."

Leon froze, his eyes widening upon hearing the vampire's inquiry. Pain resonated across his face when his fingers lightly brushed across the weapon, and his face paled somewhat. Nearly trembling, he slowly turned to face the creature. He felt his breath hitch in his chest. When their eyes met, he answered in amazement.

"You…truly don't know, do you?"

"Know what?" The demon snapped, his impatience and sarcasm surfacing in the wake of the former knight's ambiguous response. "While you _gloriously_ defeated Walter, my body began to materialize. You have no idea what it feels like to endure the agony of every bone, muscle, and sinew slowly reforming. By the time I managed to escape the waterways, the castle was nothing more than a pile of rubble."

Leon shook his head. Painful memories once again returned to haunt him. In his mind, he could still picture himself holding Sara's cold, lifeless body in his arms. He had never known the profoundness of grief until he realized she was truly gone. He remembered stroking her hair, while silently praying she would forgive him for not saving her in time.

Leon felt a tightness in his throat. After pausing a long moment, he forced the words from his lips. "Sara…gave up her life so that Walter could be defeated. It was her wish to have her soul fused with this whip. She did not want to die in vain...and I honored her sacrifice."

A strange calm settled over Joachim. With barely the blink of an eye, the vampire seated himself upon the throne. Silence overcame the creature as his head lowered, as though the effort to move was more than he could bear. The demon's ivory hair veiled his face. Leon could have sworn to have seen the creature's long, black fingernails grip the arms of the chair until his knuckles were almost whiter than his skin. Despite Leon's efforts to discern the nobleman's reaction, the only response he received was a faint whisper.

"_Leave me_."

Without argument, the crusader left the vampire to his thoughts.

* * *

Once again, Leon walked away from the castle feeling the same uncertainty he had felt when he defeated Walter. The night was slowly giving way to day, and within a few short hours, the sun would rise over the forest. He had returned to Eternal Night fully expecting that the turmoil he felt would end. He could not bring himself to kill the vampire. While he was in the demon's presence, the whip emanated a gentle violet light. Sara's soul had never forgotten him.

When Leon came upon Rinaldo's tiny cottage, he prayed the old man had not left the forest. The cottage remained as it had looked the day he left – he could see the soft glow of candlelight in the front window attesting to the fact that _someone_ still lived there. He could not imagine how the old man would react upon seeing he had returned, if the person living there was, indeed, Rinaldo. The resurrection of Eternal Night might have been enough to keep the alchemist from leaving. Silently, Leon prayed his assumption was correct as he approached the cottage and stepped onto the veranda. The old wooden floorboards creaked beneath his boots, revealing his presence before he had even tried to knock on the door. Footsteps sounded from within the cottage. Just as Leon lifted his hand to knock, the door swung open. The orangey glow from numerous candles illuminated the former knight.

"Leon?" Rinaldo's rough voice filled the air and Leon found himself standing face to face with an old friend. Rinaldo's gray eyes surveyed him for a long moment, as if initially believing the young man was imaginary.

"It is I," he answered, sweeping a quick bow before the alchemist. When he raised his head to look at the old man, a relieved smile appeared upon his lips, brightening his once contemplative expression. "It's good to see you, friend."

Rinaldo continued to look at him in astonishment, though he could see a bittersweet glimmer of delight in the old man's eyes. Although only four years had passed, Rinaldo looked more aged than the former knight expected. Additional lines had appeared upon the alchemist's face, undoubtedly attesting to the fact that the peace he experienced after the initial fall of Eternal Night had been short-lived.

"I'm glad to see you." The old man replied while stepping back and ushering him inside. "You look well, Leon – stronger than I remember you being when you left. I would ask if you are still hunting vampires, but the fact you returned answers my question."

"I almost thought you had left this place." Leon felt a bit nostalgic when he stepped into the familiar warmth of the alchemist's makeshift store. "But when I saw the castle, I knew you had stayed."

"It feels like hardly any time has passed since we last met," Rinaldo answered gravely. "All of this was supposed to _end_."

"If only you were right." Leon lamented, his blue eyes focusing upon the old man reluctantly. He did not want to disclose the news to Rinaldo but he had no choice. Even though the sun would return, the forest was not entirely cleansed. "Another vampire wishes to rule in Walter's place. I thought I had defeated him…"

"What?" Rinaldo was taken aback. The old man shook his head in disbelief while the optimism drained from his voice. Leon noticed that the man's tanned face seemed to lose some of its color. "That is impossible; the castle is supposed to fall! Are you certain that another vampire has taken control of Eternal Night?"

"Yes, unfortunately." Leon sighed. He ran a hand through his flaxen hair, feeling a lump in his throat. Soft moonlight shone upon him through the cabin's front window, illuminating his despondent expression, gleaming silver gauntlet and ivory robes. "It is the very same vampire I fought in the castle depths. My whip was not powerful enough to defeat him permanently."

"Even after his master's defeat, the castle responded to his power and rose again. I suppose I underestimated the bond he shared with Walter. There is no bond more powerful than blood. If Walter was responsible for turning him, a part of his lord's power must have been passed unto him."

Leon hesitated, giving the old man a perplexed look. "If that is so, why did Mathias not obtain control over the castle instead? Mathias has the Ebony and Crimson stones – and Walter's soul. Surely, his greater power would have entitled him to rule?"

"Not necessarily…" the alchemist cautioned. Rinaldo crossed his arms, his weariness showing despite his effort to conceal it from the young man.

Years spent living near the forest's border had taken more of a toll on the old man than Leon initially realized. Without mentioning it, the former knight sensed that Rinaldo was in failing health. The alchemist walked much more slowly and carefully than before. Nevertheless, Leon respected Rinaldo's wisdom and practicality. Indeed, without the old man's help years ago, he never would have succeeded in defeating Walter.

Leon remembered his first meeting with the crimson devil well. The vampire had made a point of putting on quite a show when he appeared before him atop the balcony in the pagoda, his deep, crimson locks splaying elegantly across his shoulders. When Walter moved, his steps were soft and swift, and his dark, penetrating spheres had never left the former knight for a moment. The sound of the vampire lord's rich, throaty voice immobilized Leon. It was not until Walter's ebony eyes bore into his that he felt the immensity of the devil's power. Walter had nearly succeeded in entrapping him; he could feel the creature's desire to ravage him of his innocence. Had he fallen to the vampire lord's will and been unable to break the demon's telepathic hold with the whip, his life – and possibly his humanity – would have ended that fateful night.

Rinaldo had offered Leon shelter and reassurance during his time of need. Leon grimaced at the thought that he had returned yet again to ask the old man for assistance. The alchemist owed him nothing, for it was, in fact, Rinaldo, who had nursed him back to health when illness threatened to take his life. Leon placed a hand to his brow, his thoughts whirling as he began pacing across the room.

Aware of the former baron's growing unease, the severity in Rinaldo's countenance relented. The old man approached and gently rested his hand upon Leon's shoulder. Leon ceased pacing; the alchemist's gesture helped him refocus.

After giving Leon a moment to collect himself, the old man calmly resumed their conversation.

"I am not an expert, but I believe the eldest vampire – in this case Joachim – would automatically be first in line to inherit, not unlike the eldest son in human families. I thought this would have been impossible, but two years ago, the castle resurrected itself. One night it was simply there, whole again, as if Walter's defeat never occurred. Yet, no new travelers came to my cottage in search of loved ones, and I saw nothing enter or leave this domain – until you arrived. "

The old man crossed his arms, his brow knitting as though trying to make sense of the former Baron's information. After hesitating a moment, he continued decisively.

"If Walter considered that creature enough of a threat to imprison him, he must be dangerous. Another vampire cannot rule Eternal Night! You must re-imprison him, and if that fails, destroy him. There is no other way."

"I do not think I can." Leon shook his head. His lips curved into a frown, and he placed a hand on his hip. When he saw Rinaldo's eyes widen, he added thoughtfully. "Even though he is a vampire, he suffered greatly during his confinement. Killing him would be unjust."

"What would sparing him accomplish?" The old man scoffed. "Except result in your own demise, should he decide to make a meal out of you? If you defeated him before, I doubt he will forgive and forget. You told me yourself that he has been watching you for quite some time. You are weary and distraught-"

"Thank you for your concern, Rinaldo, but I am fine."

Leon shook his head. He knew he was not fine, and the transparency of his emotions prompted the old man usher insistently for him to sit down. He could tell the alchemist thought that his emotions were clouding his judgment. Leon did not want to admit the possibility that the old man might have been right.

"I do not know his intentions yet."

"That is why you cannot trust him," Rinaldo retorted, shaking his head once again. Sadness and frustration appeared in his silvery eyes. "He is a vampire, and vampires want only one thing: blood. Do not put yourself at unnecessary risk for the sake of compassion. I know it pains you, but please, remember Sara's fate…and her wish to help you slay the children of the night."

"Of course I remember!" A twinge of injury appeared in the knight's eyes. After drawing a breath, he bowed his head apologetically, and his voice lowered. "Something is different about this strange vampire; he is unlike Walter. He could have killed me when I met him last, but he did not. I believe he hoped I would end his life. Perhaps, for two years, he stayed in the castle knowing I would return to find him…waiting to die."

"He was probably too weak from hunger to fight you," The old man suggested. "That does not mean he will refrain next time."

"Perhaps," Leon could tell his stubbornness somewhat amused and irritated the alchemist. Rinaldo frowned when the youth added insistently. "But I will not leave Eternal Night until this matter is dealt with…one way or another."

Nearly as determined as the young man, Rinaldo sighed with the exasperation of a father addressing a stubborn child. Although his tone was serious, a faint glint of amusement appeared in his eyes as he spoke. Despite their differences, Rinaldo admired the young man's tenacity.

"Please Leon, you must destroy that demon before it reaps vengeance upon all humanity and claims complete power over Eternal Night. It will be difficult but it must be done. I do not enjoy taking lives any more than you do, however, the creature you pity is inhuman. Its tyranny will only deepen your guilt when more lives are lost."

With equal fervor, Leon swiftly countered the alchemist. "Perhaps you are passing judgment upon him too quickly, Rinaldo. If I were to kill Joachim, Mathias would be next to inherit the castle and its power, which would increase his influence over the night. I will not allow that to happen!"

The former knight refused to concede, even though his comrade's opinion was logical. Rinaldo had far more life experience, and the sorrows of his past added to the wisdom behind his judgment. Nevertheless, Leon had made his resolve. In an effort to convince the old man, Leon gestured to the whip, unhooked it from his belt, and set it upon the table.

"I considered killing him, but this whip did not respond to him the same way it did to Walter. I felt no rage or hatred from it."

Rinaldo looked at the coiled object and picked it up, inspecting the weapon while the knight looked on anxiously. "This whip has the ability to slay all vampires. The fact it did not react is insignificant. You said you fought that vampire before…and if that is true, he may seek retribution. When you defeated him the first time your whip was incomplete – but now you have the power to vanquish the evil plaguing the night. This was Sara's last gift to you."

Leon covered his face with his hands, and felt his throat tighten when he pictured Sara's face in his mind. He could never betray her dying wish, yet, if he killed the white-haired nobleman, it would be more like a curse than a blessing upon his soul. It was true that the vampire tried to kill him in the waterways, but isolation and madness had taken its toll upon the creature's mind. Joachim wanted to fight him again but allowed him to leave the castle unharmed. If the vampire was truly evil, Leon expected his adversary would have battled him regardless. Pain resonated across his face whilst he stood up and turned his back to Rinaldo, his shoulders sinking under the weight of his thoughts.

"Is there truly no other way except to end his life?" Leon asked once again. He watched the old man turn away but was undeterred. "Surely there is another answer! Is there nothing more I can do?"

"There _may_ be another other option." Rinaldo huffed. With a sigh, his grey eyes focused upon the knight with an intensity Leon had never seen before. Despite the old man's reluctance, his voice softened somewhat. "We could…cast him into eternal sleep with alchemy. His mind would fall into a state of unconsciousness. Should he awaken, I cannot guarantee what is left of his mind, memories, or humanity would be intact. There is only one problem, however…"

"What is it?" Leon asked, earnestly awaiting the old man's explanation.

Even though he did not want to admit it, Rinaldo's proposal was probably their only alternative. It pained him to realize the pale nobleman's fate was grim. Leon knew as well as Rinaldo that Joachim could not remain free. In time, the vampire would hunt, and countless innocents would fall to the creature's thirst.

"A powerful seal is required to complete the ritual and ensure his slumber is undisturbed." Rinaldo continued. "You would have to seal the tomb with the blood of your family. No one except your descendents could awaken him."

"But if he was cast into an eternal slumber, he would no longer suffer from his thirst for blood?"

"During the daytime, vampires are compelled to sleep instinctively. He would simply go into a sleep from which he would never awaken."

Leon nodded regretfully. "An eternal sleep…might at last grant him peace. As for the blood of my family, what does that entail?"

"You must bind his tainted soul to your family name with your blood. A small amount should suffice, to mark his tomb and the door to the chamber in which he rests. Allowing him to drink from you is far too great a risk; at least this way, we could leave at daybreak and see to it that he does not awaken-"

"No."

Leon's voice firmed. He would not re-imprison the vampire against his will. He had already seen the cruelty Walter wrought upon the fallen nobleman when he had been condemned to dwell forever in the waterways. The former knight's lips curved into a frown, while his bright blue eyes focused determinedly upon the old man.

"For so long, others have decided his fate. I will ask him."

"You will _ask_ him? Do you truly believe that he would consent to this?" Rinaldo stared at him in disbelief. The old man's silvery brow furrowed. "Do not be foolish Leon; he cannot be trusted. Eternal Night has fallen under his control. I doubt he would relinquish his prize and freedom _willingly_!"

The crusader sighed. Rinaldo had every reason to despise vampires, and the pale nobleman was no exception. Leon refused to believe that the creature he met in the waterways was the same being he saw seated upon the castle's throne. He could not say for certain if Joachim had recovered from his damnation in the castle's dungeon. Nevertheless, something drew him to his former adversary. It was that reason alone Leon maintained his resolve to aid him. Whereas Mathias romanticized immortality, Joachim lived in spite of it.

Even though Leon admired the creature's unwavering willpower, sadness overcame him when he thought on Joachim's fate. Without looking at the old man, he murmured softly.

"I would hardly call it a prize, Rinaldo, for a prize is something won. It was I who defeated Walter, not Joachim. Eternal Night is merely another prison from which he cannot escape."

A long silence passed before the alchemist returned Leon's sentiment with a grave nod. After reflecting upon the young man's words, Rinaldo answered, the severity in his gaze softening somewhat.

"Perhaps, you are right."


	37. Chapter 37: Epilogue

**Epilogue **

* * *

The castle looked so lonely during the daytime; its once monster-filled rooms and corridors were deserted and forgotten. Leon walked through the long, sundrenched hallways of the castle's cathedral wing. Beams of sunlight flooded through the numerous stained glass windowpanes, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the floor. The night had given its vast hallways an illusion of mysticism. During the day, sunlight transformed the castle's grandeur and terror into tranquility. The beauty of the area stunned Leon. Though the stillness surrounding him brought peace, it was also strange to walk without encountering a single monster. When he passed by the windows, warm light greeted him instead of the starry night sky.

The castle's sunlit corridors and rooms made him wonder where the vampire was hiding. After searching the pagoda for nearly two hours, he considered trying the garden, but remembered its glass domed ceilings were an obvious hazard to the night dweller. He then attempted to search the laboratory, but the wing's warmth and humidity inclined him to reconsider his plan. The knight knew of only three places that were somewhat devoid of light and heat: the waterways, the theatre, and the mortuary. Undoubtedly, the vampire would not return to his former prison, which left him only two other viable options. The theatre seemed more befitting of the vampire's haughty temperament but contained no coffins or tombs. Thus, Leon traversed the castle's sacred cathedral wing, knowing the demon would easily find refuge among its ancient recesses.

The mortuary was deep within the cathedral, though getting there was far easier than he anticipated because there were no monsters to deter him. Only the sound of the wind whistling through the windows accompanied him as he walked down its immense hallways. Even though no monsters roamed the wing's arcane hallways and rooms, Leon kept the whip coiled in his hand. The sunlight assured him the castle was at peace. When darkness fell, peace would give way to nightmarish fiends once more. The last thing he wanted was to be caught off guard.

After arriving in the mortuary, Leon gazed around one of its vast rooms, and was taken aback by the faint beams of light streaming across its roughly tiled floors. Daylight had not graced the mortuary's antiquated interior during his previous venture through it, and his ability to see his surroundings gave the knight an uneasy feeling. He realized the area looked more dilapidated and forlorn during the daytime. Its dusty statues, crumbling floor, and worn interior dispelled the mysticism it once held at night. As he wandered through the musty rooms, clouds of dust floated in the stagnant air. Years of neglect had taken its toll on the mortuary, leaving nothing but a decaying crypt devoid of its former magnificence. The sight of it made the knight feel somewhat regretful; he wondered what it had looked like centuries ago, during an age when people may have prayed in its passageways and chapels.

At last, Leon found one of the largest rooms in the mortuary. No light entered the space. Rags covered the small arched windows lining the walls. The knight walked past five large blue statues in the middle of the room. Carved on one side of the statues was the head of a jackal, while the other displayed a detailed rendition of the virgin's face. Initially, he thought the room was empty, for he could not decipher where the pale nobleman was hiding. He walked around the space and noticed that several old tombs lined at the back had been disturbed; their lids left open, unveiling the decomposing human remains cradled within them. Leon approached one of the white stone crypts. The knight's bright blue eyes surveyed the skeleton for a moment. The worn, crumbling bones had been moved, and lay in pieces without clothing or a shroud. He turned and glanced at the windows once again, noticing the rotting robes and shrouds hung over the glass. The only grave that remained shut was the lone one on the altar at the front of the room.

Leon walked up the altar's small steps and approached the tomb. For a moment, he paused to scan the heavy rectangular structure, noticing that some of the thick dust caked on top of the lid was brushed off in places. The knight drew a breath, and gasped the edges of the lid. The stone covering was so heavy that he wondered if, despite his strength, he would be able to move it. With great effort, he managed to lift it up long enough to be able to slide it off before it could crush his fingers. As he pushed the lid off the tomb, he caught sight of the vampire's slender form lying inside it. The lid landed beside the tomb with a resounding thump. A swirl of dust lifted into the air, clouding his view of the creature for a few seconds. After it settled, Leon gaze fell upon the sleeping vampire before him.

Joachim lay lying on his back; his arms crossed over his chest. Waves of ivory hair cascaded around his ashen face. The nobleman's indigo robes emphasized the abnormality of his skin and hair. The vampire's strange appearance was so unlike anything the knight had seen before that he could not resist the temptation to study him. Joachim looked peaceful in sleep. If Leon had not known otherwise, he would have assumed the young man was human. His elaborate silver lined chest armor and boots were finely crafted, which only the wealthiest aristocrats could have afforded. The white-haired youth's robes, carefully sewn and made with expensive fabric, boasted detailed black embroidery along the bottom hem, sleeves, and front. The garment's clasps and high collar design were unusual and most likely inspired by clothing from Asiatic lands. Indeed, the undead youth had been possibly wealthier than even himself. Leon was repulsed by the fact that the creature's refined clothing and visage captivated him, even though the sight of his white skin made him shudder. He wondered on the vampire's ambiguous history. Uncharacteristic frailness haunted the young nobleman's appearance. Joachim's slender frame and smooth features made him seem more vulnerable than frightening. Not even vampirism could conceal the sadness encompassing the former human. Rest seemed to be a blessing for the creature; a temporary escape from a tormented and lonely existence.

Leon gasped when an ice cold hand seized him by the throat. Alarm rushed through him like a hurricane, but before he could even reach for the whip, one of the vampire's deceptively frail arms dragged him forward, and almost caused him to fall head first into the tomb. The knight's eyes widened. Instinctively, he fought to free himself from the nobleman's vice-like grip but it was no use, for the vampire's deadly power restrained him with ease. He could feel the vampire's thoughts immobilizing him and demanding surrender but he refused to give in. Leon looked into Joachim's pale, icy eyes. The white-haired nobleman's fine lips curled into a sardonic grin, deliberately revealing the needle-sharp points of his fangs. The knight tried to push away, for he would not let his life end as another victim of the creature's cruel hunger. However, he felt the creature's claw-like fingernails dig into his throat and nearly suffocate him.

Joachim wore a mask of indifference. The calmness in his voice defied the voracious hunger in his gaze. "Did you come to kill me in my sleep, Belmont? You are more pathetic than I thought. Stare at me like that again, and I assure you, I will be the last thing you ever see!"

"I didn't come here to kill you!" Leon snapped, barely restraining the urge to draw the whip. The vampire's hold upon him was so tight, that he knew if he did, his life would end before he could finish a sentence. He tried to remain composed, and stared at the vampire in the eyes whilst he continued. "I came here because there is something important I must ask you. Don't make me reconsider."

Joachim's cold laughter echoed through the room. Leon was too stunned by the creature's perverse amusement to move. He felt the undead nobleman's eyes search him carefully. "My reaction was instinctive. Most humans try to kill vampires in their sleep – foolish cowards." With a huff, the pale nobleman's grip upon the knight's throat released.

Leon staggered back. He would have fallen down the altar steps had he not managed to regain his balance. One of his gloved hands flew to his throat, nursing the light indents in his skin from the creature's sharp fingernails.

Despite demonstrating his superior strength moments ago, the night dweller struggled to sit up and climb out of the tomb. Instead of levitating, his feet touched the floor. However, his stance was unsteady, and his movements were languid.

"Damn sunlight!" Joachim hissed under his breath. He took a small step forward and tried to steady himself, whilst his amusement dissolved into irritation. "Now, I know why Walter was so infatuated with that stupid black pebble…" With an exasperated sigh, one of his hands grasped the edge of the tomb for support.

Leon gazed silently at the vampire, surprised by Joachim's helplessness. Despite the unbelievable power attributed to vampires, during the daytime, it mattered little. "So…it is true that vampires must sleep during the daytime…"

As if unable to hear him, the vampire turned away and covered his forehead with his hand. Bitterness filled his voice. "Of course, whereas Walter sat upon his throne ruling whether it was day or night, I must rule in fear of the sun! I should have told him this castle has too many windows…"

Leon shook his head. The vampire was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he reached for his whip, swung his arm, and swiftly cracked it against the floor. The loud noise made Joachim whirl to face him, his eyes wide with surprise and fury. Leon folded his arms across his chest, returning the creature's scathing look with a disapproving glare.

"I will not listen to this anymore. Unless you regain control over yourself, the only thing I will learn from you is that you are beyond my help."

Joachim's pale eyes widened. It satisfied Leon to see the vampire's inability to respond with an insulting comment. Nevertheless, after pausing to regain his composure, the white-haired nobleman huffed.

"So, you returned. You are either incredibly foolish or far too trusting."

"I am neither." Leon retorted. With a heavy sigh, he looked the young nobleman in the eye. "I have a proposition for you. If you don't want to listen, I will leave you as you were and never trouble you again."

Nearly trembling, Joachim leaned against the side of the tomb, panting, whilst agony resonated across his face. After considering the former knight's words for a long moment, he whispered softly.

"_You have my attention_."

The former knight wanted to approach the vampire but knew better, for the creature's volatile mood made him dangerous. But he wondered if his assumption was correct as he gazed at the nobleman's exhausted countenance. The vampire was truly vulnerable in his current state. Desperation surged through Joachim's eyes whilst he fought to remain standing. Even though the windows were covered, the sun's presence still caused him great discomfort.

After withdrawing a breath, Leon began. "There may be a way I can help you, yet. I do not wish to kill you, and I regret how greatly you have suffered because of me. I know, years ago, you saved my life when you killed that werewolf." Leon noticed the vampire's disdainful expression soften somewhat. When Joachim said nothing, the crusader continued calmly. "Rinaldo and I could cast you into an eternal sleep. You would not be able to harm others, nor would you die. This is the only compromise I know of, and I wish there was another option. You, more than anyone, deserve peace."

"And how would you go about doing that?"

The white-haired demon challenged, his pale spheres locking upon the knight unrelentingly. The creature's fine lips curved into a frown before he placed a hand upon his face, feeling his cold dead flesh as he turned around in consideration of the offer. For a moment, he suspected the human was attempting to lure him to his own death. It would be nearly effortless for the former knight to slay him while he was sleeping. However, he soon realized Leon could have killed him moments ago instead. With a tired sigh, he looked over his shoulder, forcing his lips into a sad grin.

"Do you truly think you can save me? I am surprised…you returned."

"Do not be, for I know within your heart, you do not want to harm others. Sara…would not have believed in you otherwise."

Leon shifted uncomfortably. The recognition that appeared in the demon's eyes when he spoke her name made his heart ache. He withdrew a breath, wanting to avoid further discussion of the topic. He refocused his thoughts, hoping the night dweller would consider his suggestion.

"The blood of my family – my blood – is needed to seal you within your resting place. Should you accept, you will never awaken again."

The vampire turned around. Leon realized that, to his absolute astonishment, the creature was seriously considering the offer. Joachim's his eyes gleamed with a resolve that startled the former knight. Pain flickered through the white-haired youth as he studied Leon's gentle countenance, picturing the blood-filled veins and arteries running through the young man's circulatory system. The mere mention of the word _blood_ sent his mind into turmoil. He had not fully realized how long he had starved himself of the tantalizing liquid until a searing, ravenous hunger filled his mouth. His desire to abstain from feeding was waning. Even though his guilt over the death of the young village girl filtered through his thoughts, willpower alone was not enough. For a long time, he had known the hunger would once again take control of his mind, just as it had years ago in the waterways. He tried to avoid remembering the hot, thick touch of blood upon his lips, the way it slinked down his throat and rejuvenated the bestial urges he suppressed. He looked away, tormented by vague recollections of his flesh gliding against another, two naked forms cloaked in darkness, the sounds of his sinful ecstasy reverberating off the prison's hollow walls as he pillaged his victim. Everything remotely human about him vanished in that place.

Lost within his thoughts, Joachim approached the high windows lining the wall behind him, wishing for the strength to rip the rags away and let his wretched body burn in the sunlight. He underestimated the strength it took to live. Walter, above all, wanted to know death. Even though the former lord of Eternal Night sat contentedly upon his throne, his games were not simply to prove his immortal power, but rather, a means to an _end_. No matter how the game concluded, Walter would have won – for death itself was a victory over eternity. The irony of Mathias enslaving Walter's soul forever to his will made Joachim want to laugh. However, it was the former knight standing before him who defeated his crimson-haired tormentor. The idea of winning by _default_ sobered the pale vampire's amusement instantly.

He could not bear the thought of harming another human being, for he was already burdened by countless other crimes. His debauchery knew no bounds; his mind was unpredictable and capable of betraying him to the vicious, cruel hunger that once dominated him entirely. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as his gaze fell upon Leon once again, absorbed by the sight of the young man's brilliant blue eyes and exquisite countenance. He leaned against the tomb, feeling his strength begin to leave him even though he was shielded from the sun. The thirst began to pound against him, demanding gratification, trying to wear away the fragile humanity he fought to maintain.

With a bitter groan, Joachim breathed heavily, his voice trembling while he fought against the brutal instincts of his nature. He could see in the young man's expression a sentiment of understanding and sorrow. The knight's empathetic gaze entranced the vampire completely. In spite of his waning strength, the white-haired demon whispered resolutely.

"It must be done."

The only response Leon could give in that moment was a silent nod. There was nothing he could do or say that would change the vampire's fate. With a sigh, he placed left hand upon his hip and ran his other hand through his golden hair. He could tell the vampire's ability to compose himself was fading.

"I wish this were not so." Leon replied, giving the creature a pitying look. "Is there anything I can do? I don't want to watch you suffer, for it brings me no pleasure."

For a long time, the white-haired nobleman refrained from speaking. Shuddering gasps fled the vampire's lips as he huddled in the corner beside the tomb, his piercing eyes locked up the knight. His pale eyes glinted.

"Are you certain you mean anything?" The pale nobleman whispered.

Leon did not know how to respond to the question and regretted asking. The knight's innocent gaze prompted the white-haired creature to continue reluctantly.

"There is one thing. I am so…very thirsty. You could…"

"I can't; I won't!" Leon turned away, and his mind began to whirl. What was he thinking when he agreed to the vampire's terms? Horror filtered across his face as he thought about the terrible deed. His voice, once bold, sounded oddly faint when he forced himself to respond. "The very idea of letting you-"

"If you don't," The vampire hissed, his pale eyes shooting daggers at the troubled young man. "The moment darkness falls, I cannot guarantee I will be able to control my thirst any longer. I am dying…for I have endured too long without human blood to sustain myself. The blood of werewolves has long since lost its ability to alleviate my thirst. Perhaps, consider this...the sealing of our _contract_, Belmont."

Leon pressed a hand over his forehead in an attempt to calm himself. However, the creature's penetrating stare made him shudder. The cold, unforgiving malice in Joachim's icy eyes sent waves of apprehension through the knight. Without realizing it, his face paled, and he took several steps backward. If he did not help the vampire, night would eventually come, and he would be too exhausted to intervene.

"Trying to coerce me will not get you what you want."

The young man replied coolly, trying to delay giving into the demon as long as possible. Rinaldo had warned him not to allow the vampire to drink from him under any circumstances. However, the moment he rebuked the creature's request, guilt welled within his heart and he regretted his brusqueness. Leon could not bear the thought of having to harm the pale nobleman.

"I-I apologize, but I cannot risk the possibility of you succumbing to bloodlust. Were you to attack me, I would have no choice except to…"

Joachim's smirk abruptly faded. Though the vampire's tone was far from pleading, something akin to desperation appeared in his eyes. It was the kind of desperation that came when the thing one wanted most was just out of reach. Leon suspected that, though the vampire would not kill him, he would not relinquish control, either. The mere suggestion of appeasing a human was probably the last thing the creature would tolerate.

After hesitating, the white-haired nobleman's voice adopted a more subdued tone.

"I am _asking_ you. Is the brave Leon Belmont truly frightened of _me_? I, who have no powers to speak of right now, am defenseless. Stop being so dramatic about it, you have probably endured far worse pain."

Leon could not deny that the vampire had a point. His lips pursed, and he silently cursed his own ignorance. Although Joachim's threats disturbed him, he was determined to honour his word.

"I...have a question first," he began, pausing when the vampire rolled his eyes like an impatient child. "If I let you...why will I not be tainted?"

Joachim flicked his hand and gave the knight a nonchalant shrug. The vampire's casualness about the matter incensed Leon. The creature left the protection of the shadows and approached him; his steps methodical and slow. The soles of his ironclad boots lightly clicked across the floor when he walked. Leon could tell the creature had not walked in quite some time. Joachim's posture was unsteady. Curtains of soft, white hair splayed around his face and shoulders. The elaborate silver design on his chest armor and boots gleamed; his elegance contrasted only by the severity of his expression. The intensity of the nobleman's gaze drew Leon's eyes to his.

Briefly, the creature's anger faded. "The curse is only spread if I bite your neck. That is the way it has always worked, and always will. Not everyone who is bitten in the neck will become a vampire. If I drain too much blood, break the neck, or tear out the throat, the victim will not become a vampire. The blood in the neck is warm and close to an artery, so controlling oneself while feeding can be very difficult." Joachim's voice trailed into silence. After a moment, he licked his lips, eyeing the knight with wolf-like hunger.

Leon did not find the vampire's explanation reassuring, but it was all he could rely on. Still, the thought repulsed him so much that he could not help grimacing. With a quiet sigh, he stepped forward, narrowing the gap between them. He looked Joachim in the eye, determined to prove he was unafraid – despite his reservations.

"Very well. I hope you will not require this of me again. "

"Believe me, Belmont, I agree completely. I swear this will be more painful for me than you."

The vampire gave him a repugnant look, his pale eyes staring at Leon in a manner similar to a spoilt child having to dine upon peasant food. Leon suspected Joachim's dependency upon him embarrassed the white-haired nobleman more than he wished to admit. Whereas his frame was strong, agile, and full of the vibrancy of youth; Joachim's slender frame was pale, sickly, and frail – at least, during the daytime. Within a few hours, the vampire would be able to glide about the castle with the freedom of an emancipated prisoner. Leon suddenly dreaded the thought.

Taking careful steps, the vampire slowly circled him. Joachim's head lowered, though his eyes remained upon the knight. A smirk creased the corner of his lips. Leon startled when he felt the vampire's slender form slink so close that he could feel the immortal's cold breath upon his cheek.

Joachim was first to break their silence. "Take off your glove." He whispered.

Leon stared at the vampire, uncertain of whether to comply until the creature huffed impatiently. He could not delay any longer, for the intensity in the nobleman's eyes was unrelenting. The knight heaved a sigh before peeling off the thick black glove on his right hand, exposing the long sleeve of his black undershirt and fair white hand. It was difficult for the knight to discern whether the vampire was impressed or indifferent, for the graceful features of his face yielded nothing. Leon slowly rolled up his sleeve to his elbow, feeling his throat tighten when the immortal's gaze fell upon his smooth, exposed wrist. Suddenly, he remembered Joachim's dreadful words when the vampire explained his inability to control his thirst. The knight began to see images of the creature draining the life out of him despite his efforts to escape. Without realizing it, he began to pull his arm away.

Joachim's pastel hand seized him firmly by the wrist. Leon winced in pain, for the creature's hold was so strong that, should the vampire have been inclined, he could have shattered the fragile bones instantly.

Joachim only looked at him coldly, his voice still retaining a sullen air of disgust. "Are you reconsidering?" The words dripped from his lips.

Unwilling to show weakness, the knight shook his head, even though his stance stiffened. "No." He whispered. His voice sounded fainter than he would have liked.

For a moment, the vampire seemed to understand his reluctance. With a sigh, he replied softly. "I suppose you have little reason to trust me. Nevertheless, blood binds our agreement. If I do not drink soon, my disposition will become unpredictable…I will become…the creature who greeted you in the waterways. That clawing, rasping, murderous fiend…will devour me completely."

"Is that what happens when vampires do not drink blood?" Leon asked.

"I would rather not speak of it again."

Leon was not sure whether to believe him. The sincerity in the vampire's eyes seemed so convincing. Yet, he could not rid himself of the possibility that his unlikely ally still harbored ulterior motives. He fell silent, feeling the creature's cold fingertips caress his wrist. Then, without warning, the sharp tips of Joachim's fingernails pierced his flesh. Leon winced as needles of pain shot up his arm. He tried to pull away, but the vampire's grip upon him strengthened, and he could not move. A stream of blood flowed from a small wound in his wrist, slinking down his hand and dripping onto the floor. Very slowly, Joachim raised the knight's wrist to his lips. Leon felt the color drain from his face when the creature's lips pressed against the wound.

Joachim's pale eyes remained locked upon the former knight indifferently, as though unaware of the pain he caused. The feel of Leon's soft, silky skin against his cold lips sent tremors of delight through him. Although his ravenous hunger demanded more than a mere sample of the human's essence, the luscious taste of warm, thick blood soothed the dull ache in his throat. Despite the cruelty in his gaze, he tried to be gentle. Walter had never told him, but there was an art to consuming blood – a kind of etiquette, that only improved with sufficient practice.

Leon's stance stiffened, his eyes widening as he watched his own blood flow from his wrist. He had expected the vampire's bite to cause unbearable agony, but felt only a small, sharp pain when the demon embedded its fangs into his skin. A strange feeling overcame him, and his heart began to pound against his ribcage. His lips parted and he closed his eyes, trying to ignore the arousal and terror that filled him that moment. The feel of the vampire's cold skin against his flesh sent tremors of excitement through him. Within moments, his eyes slowly opened, and his dark blue spheres clashed against the demon's pale blue. The former knight felt his breathing grow shallow as light-headedness overcame his senses. He could not describe it, but the intimacy of the act was like nothing he had ever experienced before.

After taking his fill, the vampire politely cleaned the remnants of blood from the knight's wrist. His smooth, delicate lips glided across the supple flesh, licking and cleaning the blood away. Then, satisfied, the night dweller slowly rose to his feet and turned away. His voice, once harsh, fell eerily quiet.

"It is done. Return to the throne room at sunrise two days from hence. I will move my tomb there, for it is less accessible than the mortuary."

"Are you…certain you wish to go through with this? Somehow, I feel I have become no better than Walter-"

"This was my choice."

"What will you do until that time?"

"I do not know." The vampire paused. His pale eyes surveyed the knight. After hesitating a moment, he began, his voice possessing an unexpected hint of cordiality. "I must return to sleep. Sunlight is my enemy, and I cannot leave this room until nightfall. I have spent a great deal of time in solitude; a few more evenings will make little difference."

Leon had not realized how isolated Joachim was until he saw his pensive expression. Sadness overwhelmed the former knight. He had always tried to believe that vampires were nothing more than cold, heartless creatures. Yet, when he met the young nobleman of the water prison, his assumptions were unfounded. He did not want to think that the white-haired immortal would spend his last few evenings completely alone.

With a half-hearted smile, the former knight replied. "You could…join me when you awaken. Although we have been far from comrades, there is still much I can learn from you."

"Are you serious?" Joachim raised an eyebrow, his lips parting in surprise, revealing the tips of his razor-sharp fangs. When he felt the knight's gaze trail to the deadly protrusions, he clamped his mouth shut and looked away. "Impossible. Don't mock me with your pity, human."

"I am not trying to mock you!" Leon insisted, irritated by the vampire's chronic melancholy. "I thought you might be in want of company."

Joachim stared at the young man in disbelief. For a moment, his countenance became so severe that Leon almost backed away. The immortal's fine lips curled into a scowl as he surveyed the knight suspiciously. The candidness of Leon's offer surprised him utterly, for he could not imagine why anyone would willingly desire his company. His lips parted, and the fiery rage he felt quickly dissipated. A part of him was delighted by the young man's offer. However, he had not entirely overcome his aversion to human company. When his appreciation of Leon nearly caused him to smile, he regained himself and folded his arms across his chest, huffing under his breath.

"Very well."

* * *

The stillness of the castle made Leon miss the vampire's company somewhat. He had agreed to watch over Joachim's domain. Throughout the day, he spent time practicing with the whip, reading, and strolling about the garden. He missed the days when he and Sonia ventured into the forest to hunt. More than anything, he longed to feel her next to him; his thoughts picturing her warm smile and beautiful, soft face. He hoped she was well, but could not bring himself to leave the castle. Even though the sun was still in the sky, he held a strange attachment to Eternal Night – as well as its new master. A tiny smile appeared upon his lips in mockery of his own nostalgia. Sonia was undoubtedly anticipating his return, and he wanted nothing more than to feel her embrace and taste the sweetness of her kiss. Duty had always kept him from that which he cared about most; he would not leave her waiting as he had Sara.

Bored, Leon broke his gaze at the window to explore the exquisite hallways of Eternal Night's cathedral wing. The rays of the setting sun shone through the castle's ancient windowpanes, casting a kaleidoscope of colors upon the floor. The gentle glow from candles lining the hallway created a calming ambiance that seemed uncharacteristic of a place that, at night, was shrouded in darkness and moonlight. The fact that monsters did not walk the hallways during the day allowed him to remain at ease. As he walked along the hallway's ornate marble floor, his footsteps echoed across the deserted space. After a time, he entered one of the many large rooms he had explored years ago during his venture through the sanctuary. Besides numerous bookshelves lining the walls, its vast emptiness initially failed to capture the former knight's interest.

He was about to depart, when his gaze caught sight of scratch marks marring the floor's intricate design near a bookshelf on its adjacent wall. With a curious frown, he approached the bookshelf, noting that something heavy had caused the scratch marks in the marble. Since the room was bereft of furniture, he diverted his gaze to the bookshelf near the markings. The scratches formed a half-circle in the floor, attesting that the bookshelf nearest it contained an area he had overlooked during his first venture through.

Overcome by curiosity, the former knight pushed against the dusty shelf. A loud, scraping noise shattered the sanctuary's calm silence when he threw his entire body against the unwilling object and forced it to move. To his amazement, there was no wall behind the shelf, and after much difficulty, he was able to push it into a vertical position – revealing a hallway beyond. The hallway looked unremarkably similar to those he had passed through in order to enter the large room. Leon stepped into the hall; feeling his hand instinctively brush across the whip coiled beside his thigh. No monsters lumbered within the empty space, but he could tell it had not been visited for a long time, since a thick film of dust caked the window ledges and created a light haze in the air. The hallway curved slightly. Leon doggedly followed it, but to his disappointment, it led to nothing but a small empty room on the opposite side.

As Leon made his trek back to the hallway's hidden entrance, he abruptly stopped upon noticing something adorning the wall half-way through the hall. A large, red velvet curtain was drawn over a section of the wall. The curtain was caked in so much dust from years of neglect that he missed seeing it entirely. What else had he failed to notice when he first visited the castle? Leon shook his head, remembering that, at the time, his mind had been consumed by his desire to find and rescue Sara. He stepped toward the heavy curtain and grasped one side of it, coughing when a swirl of dust flew into the air the moment it was touched. In a single, swift motion, he pulled the curtain aside.

Leon found himself staring at an old oil painting depicting a young woman with a ghostly pale countenance. The lady was seated upon a red velvet throne with a small child no older than four perched upon her knee. Her long, heavily embroidered copper colored dress flowed across the floor around her feet in thick waves. The lady's deep, crimson hair was styled into an elegant bun held in place by strings of tiny pearls. Her striking features, in addition to her flawless white skin, beckoned Leon's attention. At any moment, the woman appeared capable of reaching through the portrait and touching him, for her unusually dark, calm gaze held a strange power and realism. Her smooth, refined face possessed an unsettlingly proud and dignified air. Although she was remarkably beautiful, her abnormally pale complexion made Leon want to avert his eyes. There was something indescribably sinister about her. Her thin, red lips curved into a small smile, which appeared to carefully and tactfully veil her thoughts from the viewer. She seemed to regard the child upon her knee with cold indifference, for the subtle tension in her snow-white hands betrayed her illusion of maternal affection.

Leon drew a breath, focusing his attention upon the pale-skinned boy, whose features held a distinctive – though not total – resemblance to the lady. The boy seemed to gaze back at him, his lingering gaze so poignant that Leon held his breath. Lush coils of thick, shimmering scarlet hair framed the child's unsmiling face. The boy was adorned in a finely embroidered ebony-colored robe. Together, the woman and child conveyed an image of archaic nobility that had long since vanished into the dark depths of history.

Leon searched the portrait for the artist's signature, but all he could find was a faintly scrawled message in the bottom right corner. The handwriting was so faded that he initially could barely read it, and discerned only:

'_For my…Bianca….yours,…'_

Unwilling to look at the haunting rendition of the woman and child any longer, Leon turned and continued down the hall, knowing some things were best left forgotten.

* * *

Night had just settled over the forest and castle. The moment the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, the light-headedness Joachim felt during the daytime vanished completely. Although a familiar hunger ached in his throat, he resisted the urge to disturb his guest. Humans and vampires shared a similar need for rest.

Joachim glided into the empty throne room, eager to seek refuge from the stormy wind. With a sigh, he sunk into the velvet throne and rested his hands upon its gold arms. Even though he would have turned twenty-four if he was human, he felt strangely old and tired.

The robe he now wore was not the same one he had worn in the waterways. His armor, once beautiful, was dented, rusted, and covered in blood. He had washed the blood out of his hair and skin away before he left waterways. His eyes had silently watched the steady red stream disappear down the vast, shadowed channels, vainly wishing the water could erase all memory of what had happened from his mind.

The blood on his clothes could never be washed away, and the tears in the fabric were too numerous to mend. When he cast his old clothes away, he tried to cast the monster he had been out with them. He commissioned a master armor smith to craft a new breastplate in the same design, color, and quality as his old one. He commissioned new robes to be made by one of Europe's finest tailors which resembled his old robe in every detail - down to the fabric, color, and design. Months passed before the tailor could find all of the fabrics required to re-create it. During that time, the new identity he adopted – the green robed human lord of a small, nameless hamlet – hid his true nature. Once, he happened upon a festival in the village's town square. The villagers had dressed themselves in elaborate masks and costumes; all in an attempt to assume an identity other than their own. When he passed through the square he had smiled to himself, for like them he, too, wore a disguise to hide his true self.

* * *

**~*Flashback*~**

The destruction of Eternal Night inevitably destroyed his only sanctuary. He had no choice except to seek a new life elsewhere or else burn in the sunlight. He avoided the villagers as much as possible but was forced to make an occasional appearance in the town square after dusk as to not arouse suspicion. The villagers, unsettled by his pale skin and hair, either tolerated or avoided his company entirely. Since he was accustomed to isolation, he was relieved that he was not required to engage in much conversation during his infrequent appearances.

In the daytime, before his arrival in the tiny village, he had often sought shelter from the sun in caves or abandoned houses. Like a vagabond, he had wandered the countryside and avoided the roads – knowing it would only feed his appetite to kill humans he came across. He had never seen a werewolf until he left the ruins of Eternal Night when, by happenstance, he encountered one in a glade during his nightly travels. The blood covering the beast had lured him to it, for the scent of human suffering was unmistakable, and his increasingly voracious hunger compelled him to follow it. The moment he sighted the creature's hulking black, furry shape, he froze. Initially, the beast terrified him, for its strength and prowess seemed to rival his own. It was much larger and bulkier than a normal wolf, and its distinctively human-like limbs, coupled with its glowing red eyes and gnashing teeth, made him recoil at the perversion of nature that had so suddenly thrust itself before his very eyes.

However, his disgust quickly faded into excitement. Although he suspected the beast possessed a superior sense of smell, it was so preoccupied with gorging upon its human prey that it took no notice of his presence. For a moment, he felt a kinship with the beast, who shared his own lust for blood. The sanguine essence coated the entirety of the creature's chest in a sea of red. Thick red droplets splashed across the canine's muzzle as it tore into its victim's chest, ripping out the dead man's innards and gnawing upon them like a dog with a bone. He waited until the beast finished its meal and silently followed it through the forest, keeping a far enough distance to avoid detection as it sprinted ahead of him on all fours. The creature's speed surprised him, for he had difficulty maintaining it in his line of sight.

Just before dawn, the werewolf tired, and laid down to rest beneath a canopy of trees. It took only moments for the creature to return to its human form. The inky black shape was soon replaced by that of a young man, whose smaller, naked form emanated a strange vulnerability in comparison to the monster he had followed moments earlier. It was then that he saw his opportunity. Without hesitating, he crept toward the sleeping man, reached down, and grasped the human round the neck. The moment the he touched the young man, the boy's eyes sprang open, and he attempted to wrench himself away.

Joachim had underestimated the power werewolves possessed in their human form. He cried out when the young man's hand squeezed his wrist, nearly breaking it in half. A swell of pain shot up his arm, causing him to release the human, who then sought to flee. He had momentarily stared after the young man, his surprise subsiding into rage. He tore after the creature, his eyes blazing as he lunged upon the young man and knocked him down. They hit the grass with a low thump, the sounds of their struggles muffled by the soft earth beneath them. Since the werewolf was in human form, he managed to pin the man against the ground with his superior strength. Had the young man been in his bestial form, he doubted his prize would have been won so easily. With a triumphant laugh, he opened his jaws and bit into the young man's throat, tearing out the jugular before the human could even utter a cry. Thick, warm blood gushed down his throat as the young man's struggling arms became limp.

The act of feeding still unsettled him despite the satisfaction he felt when he tasted blood. He tried to convince himself that he had ended the former human's suffering. His desire to kill was not malicious but rather, necessary for his own survival. The frequency in which he encountered werewolves across the countryside convinced him that, without his efforts, more innocents would succumb to the curse. Since his only alternative was to hunt humans, he reluctantly decided upon hunting their hunters instead.

Until one fateful evening...

* * *

**~*Flashback*~ (cont.)**

He had left the safety of the abandoned manor for a midnight stroll. The scent of werewolves had grown strong, and he was eager to satiate his thirst for blood. It had been nearly a month since he last fed and the aching hunger in his mouth tormented him. The night was relatively peaceful, and the full moon, like the centerpiece of an exquisite tapestry, softly glowed in the star dotted sky. To avoid drawing attention to himself, he walked close to the village's surrounding forest, which provided ample cover from passersby. The werewolf was close – he could hear it rustling somewhere in the thicket of tress, waiting to take its next victim.

As he walked along the edge of the woods, the sounds of rapid footsteps broke the silence of the night. He was about to dart into the trees, when the sight of a young girl staggering up the path caught his attention. The girl looked no older than fifteen. Her hair was tied back into a long blonde ponytail secured by a navy colored bow. Her matching navy blue dress was spattered with blood. One of the girl's trembling hands was clamped over her left shoulder. Torrents of blood seeped between her fingers and trickled down her arm in thin red lines. Panting and gasping, she stumbled toward him, her light blue eyes wide and fearful.

Before he could flee, she looked at him in the eye, and cried. "Please….help me!"

Stunned, he stood before her, his pale eyes widening as she struggled to make her way toward him. He took a step back, drawing a sharp breath when the scent of her blood wafted through the air. She was bleeding profusely, and the possibility of causing her even greater harm alarmed him. With the swiftness of a rabbit, he broke eye contact and turned to disappear into the trees.

The sound of her pleas made him hesitate. "Don't leave! An animal attacked me; I barely got away..."

The desperation in her voice cried out to him like none ever had before. He wanted nothing to do with her but she had already seen him. If he left her there and she survived, his presence in the village was potentially compromised. Besides despising him for leaving a young girl to die, the villagers could believe he was responsible for harming her.

When the girl saw him hesitate, she began again. "My sister…Sonia…is waiting for me at home. I promised her I wouldn't be out late…and it's my fault."

He turned around to look at her. When she drew close enough for him to touch her, he caught her in his arms and held her. The scent of blood was intoxicating. His mind began to race when his gaze fell upon the thick, crimson liquid streaming from her shoulder. What startled him most was not her wound, but her suffering. The fear reflecting in her eyes stunned him. He thought he had grown so accustomed to fear and death that one more human dying would seem insignificant. However, the longer he looked at her, the more he doubted himself. He examined the wound on her shoulder for a moment, almost recoiling when a cold chill ran down his spine. The wound was unmistakably caused by a werewolf. The serrated gash, in addition to the scratch marks on her arms and chest, attested that she had made a narrow escape. The girl had been powerless to stop the beast from tainting her. Most werewolves killed their victims and consumed them; it was rare for a human to live long enough to be turned. He despised how similar vampires and werewolves were, for both shared the ability to curse those unfortunate enough to cross their path.

With a sigh, he shook his head, his voice softening. "It's not your fault. You are bleeding quite badly…and although I want to take you to your sister, I cannot."

"Why?" The girl croaked, "Why won't you take me to her? I…need to go home…she is waiting for me…!" Tears began to fall from her eyes and trickle down her smooth cheeks. Anger briefly flickered in her eyes.

Almost at a loss for words, he looked her in the eye. Sadness overcame him then, and without realizing it, his voice trembled. "Do you know what I am?" He asked.

"_Cold_." She answered, flinching when he brushed the back of his hand across her cheek. Although she said nothing, he could see her eyes steadily tracing his face – noting his unnaturally pale skin and ashen hair. A thousand questions must have run through her mind as she lay in his arms, looking at him, wondering what kind of God would cause her to encounter such a frightening and strange being. Then, after gathering her thoughts, she continued in a low whisper. "You're…_dead_…!"

"Yes, I am." He replied, both impressed and taken aback by her perceptiveness. Even though she was extremely frightened, she composed herself enough to see through his human disguise. "I was hunting until you saw me-"

"You're a _vampire_!" Terror once again filled the girl's eyes, and for a moment, she attempted to struggle free from his hold. "Let me go! You're a monst-"

"I was not hunting humans." He interjected, knowing her assumption was logical and justified. To her, he was no less a monster than the beast that attacked her. "The bite in your shoulder was not caused by an ordinary animal - but by a werewolf. Eventually, you will turn into one yourself. I regret…those whom you love will never be safe in your presence now that you are tainted."

"What?" The girl gasped, her eyes widening until she began to weep. Tears flooded down her face but the exertion of crying only seemed to cause her greater agony. As she wept, she once again covered her wound with her hand as if her will to staunch the bleeding would somehow liberate her from her fate. "I-I don't believe you!"

"Why would I lie?" Even though the anger and fear in her eyes stabbed him like daggers, he maintained his calm. His once piercing gaze softened somewhat as his fine, ashen lips curved into a frown. Strands of white hair framed his deathly pale countenance when he lowered his head, immediately regretting his insensitivity. "I wish it were not so. I was too late…forgive me."

"Please, take me to my sister! She's waiting for me-"

"If you return to her, you risk tainting her as well! You may not realize the consequences of your actions until it is too late. Until everyone you loved…"

He said no more. The fear in her eyes spoke plainly enough that elaborating was unnecessary. He lamented the fact that, had he hunted merely an hour earlier, the girl would have unconcernedly gone home to her family. Silence fell between them for a long moment. The girl looked away and continued weeping, the sound of her pain and sorrow lost in the surrounding darkness. Had a full moon been absent that evening, she may never have guessed the stranger's true nature. However, the moon's milky light clearly illuminated his lean, graceful form and regal visage. Although boasting a refined elegance, his appearance was also unsettling, for his hair and skin were the telltale color of death. While he held her, she stared at his face, her fear growing each passing moment. The girl's blue eyes mirrored her thoughts. Anger and fear eventually gave way to grim acceptance.

The girl withdrew a deep breath, her trembling ceasing when she consigned herself to speak. "I…I should have listened to my sister. I told her I would be back…she made me promise to return before nightfall…but I thought there was no harm in staying a little while longer. I will not turn into one of those…those…_beasts_! I can't, I won't-"

The pale youth sighed. There was nothing he could say that would undo what was done. When he retained his silence, her voice grew more determined.

"I was just picking some flowers to take home when I heard something in the trees, and before I could run, it was upon me! I tried to get away but it was too strong! Too strong…" Her voice trailed off. Then, catching herself, she continued. "There was so much blood…I just kept running…and it didn't take me long before I realized the blood was my own. I could hear it following me for a while but it suddenly disappeared." She gasped, attempting to catch her breath. After pausing a moment, she looked him in the eye. "If you are in actuality, a vampire, you were looking for blood, were you not? Are werewolves not still _human_? Even in some small way, there must be humanity within them-"

"Usually, what was human is consumed by the beast. It is rare for a werewolf to maintain their human consciousness."

"How do you know that? Even though you're a vampire, you seem…human."

A tiny, wistful smile creased the corners of the young man's lips, though it held no emotion. "Not everything is as it seems." He whispered. With a soft huff, he drew his lips back, unveiling the gleaming tips of his fangs.

The girl recoiled and cried out, her voice once again regaining its former panic. "I don't want to be turned into one of those creatures! I would never hurt my sister and mother, for I would rather die!"

"Regretfully, you are beyond my help now."

When he attempted to release her, he felt her hand firmly secure his. The girl held onto him as if, at any moment, their parting would cause her to disintegrate. He despised the callous way in which he sought to take his leave, however, their conversation was about to take a darker turn. He had been foolish to prolong his interaction with the girl, for he could see the desperation in her eyes – the pleading, agonizing cry of a soul for mercy.

Without hesitating, the girl cried out. "I don't want my family to see me this way! That is why I must ask – no beg – you to-"

"I cannot." He tried to look away, but her hand flew to his face and cupped his cheek. Her warm touch made him flinch.

"If you hunt werewolves, than you will eventually have to hunt me as well. If you leave me alive, I will only ruin the lives of others. I am offering my blood – and my life – to you. Take it."

"Do you think me a fool?" He sneered, his once calm gaze suddenly alit by fury. It took all his willpower to avoid throwing her on the ground and leaving her where she lay. His hand clenched into a fist as he glared at her, hating her for asking so much of someone – and something – she did not know nor understand. "I will not drink your filthy blood! My conscience is already stained by countless sins, yet you thoughtlessly ask me to commit another! You, a lowly peasant, dare ask _me_ to do you a service? As if I would adhere to the request of a pathetic, worthless human-"

"Are you truly so cruel?" She shouted, her voice shattering the silent night like glass. "You would gladly go about killing werewolves but allow me to become one? What are humans to you, merely cattle to be slaughtered on a whim? If you kill me, you would commit no crime. Rather, you would liberate me from a truly horrible fate. If you leave me, I will have no choice but to…end myself…and suffer eternal damnation for my sin."

After hearing her plea he hesitated. Memories resurfaced in his mind, and all at once, he pictured a lady's smiling face. Soft, dark brown hair framed her graceful features. Her azure blue eyes looked at him kindly. Then, without warning, he pictures himself _running_. His feet carried him across the ground while a dark, crimson figure pursued. Like a haze, a fog encompassed the two figures until neither were distinguishable. A chill ran through his body and immobilized him. It took a few moments before he understood that his inability to move was caused by _fear_. Despite his effort to escape his fate, it had all been for naught. Despite his effort to save the lady in his dreams, her life had been taken unwillingly from her.

It occurred to him that he did not even know the young girl's name. It had not even crossed his mind to ask. Sorrow filled him as he reflected upon how far he had fallen. He could barely remember who he was. Only traces of his former life existed in his mind.

With a sigh, he at last gave his answer. "If you are certain this is your desire, I will do as you ask."

"It is not my desire," she sobbed. "But it must be done nevertheless."

"What is your name?" It seemed odd to ask, knowing what he was about to do, but he could not relegate her to being another nameless victim. In time, he was certain her name would bear no significance, but he desired to know it without compromise.

"Beatrice." Her voice fell quiet.

He tried to smile but his face remained expressionless. He felt her curl up in his arms, her large, blue eyes looking up at his face. He barely realized he was trembling until he felt her hand squeeze his.

"It's all right." She whispered, her lips lifting into a tiny, sad smile. "My sister – as dear to my heart as she is – would think she could save me somehow. Although she cannot, you can. I am…grateful."

He could not understand why, in her final moments, she sought to comfort him. Nevertheless, her resolve somewhat consoled him. It was possible that, when she was found, the villagers would discover his true nature. But when he looked at her face – sensing she had somehow found peace amidst so much pain – he could not deny her wish. Although her fate was tragically sealed, she accepted it bravely. Indeed, he knew she was far braver a soul than he, for she chose death. Vaguely, he remembered when the choice had been offered to him, he had chosen differently…

His eyes trailed from her face and gazed at the smooth, sloping curve of her neck. He held her tighter against his chest and lowered his face until his lips skimmed the smooth, warm flesh of her throat. He could feel her pulse thumping rapidly against the thin layer of skin. Her body tensed in grim anticipation while her breathing quickened. The pale nobleman could see her looking at him from the corner of her eye as his lips parted. Silence consumed them both when their eyes finally met. He stared at her for a long time, lost in the intensity of her gaze, until the scent of her blood made the ache in his mouth sear like fire. Almost instantaneously, the intoxicating aroma of her crimson essence overwhelmed him.

When his placid stare dissolved into ravenous hunger, he felt her hand tighten around his…

* * *

After that night, he resolved to leave the village. His encounter with Leon merely solidified the fact that his past was inescapable. He could feel a strange power calling him to return to the darkness in which he dwelled. He could not bear to live among mortals knowing what he had done. To him, death was never merciful. While humans lived and died, freed from the burdens of the sins they carried in life, he would continue to _exist_. The word 'exist' was a more fitting description than live, for he had not felt the exuberance of life within his soul until his fateful reunion with Baron Belmont...

None had been more astonished than he when he discovered that the castle had resurrected itself. Yet, astonishment soon gave way to monotony, and he remained there – shackled to past once again like a prisoner.

The pale youth gazed at the large windowpanes lining the throne room. Thousands of stars twinkled faintly in the sky's dark abyss. Soft moonlight spilled across the floor and cast a white shroud around his pallid form. For a moment, the night's beauty mesmerized him. He remembered looking at the moon as a child on the many nights when he had been unable to sleep. The moon had been his sole companion then; he could not resist smiling upon realizing his perception was still unchanged.

Just as a feeling of peace began to settle over him, he abruptly tensed when a low, familiar voice resounded through the room. The moment he heard it, his eyes widened and his fingernails dug into the arms of the throne.

"So…it seems you have reclaimed your freedom, Joachim."

The pale youth froze when his gaze met the red-haired demon's dark, penetrating eyes. His mouth nearly fell agape when he found himself staring at his former master's tall, armored form. The vampire lord was learning against a wall at the back of the room. When their eyes met, Walter slowly straightened and walked toward him. The sound of his footsteps reverberated through the hollow space. Coils of shimmering crimson locks cascaded around the vampire's majestic visage and shoulders in thick wavelets. In the candlelight, Walter's armor acquired a blood-like sheen that made the youth cringe.

When the remark was met with silence, a slow, deliberate smile appeared upon the red-haired lord's smooth lips. As he walked, his long black cape flicked behind him like the tail of a cat. As if meeting a long lost friend, the vampire chuckled, his dark eyes scanning the pale youth's immobile form as he continued.

"I see you are still resentful. Ah, but you have everything you have ever wanted and more, child. Enjoy it…while you still can."

Joachim returned the vampire's comment with a knowing smirk. "Back so soon? I was just about to redecorate. Your taste is far too garish for my liking." He surveyed the demon for a moment, noticing the absence of a once prominent object. He could tell Walter was well aware of his discriminating eye, for the moment his gaze trailed to the vampire's neck, anger rose within the vampire lord's gaze. "It looks like your friend Mathias pilfered your precious little stone. All that time, he used you like a harlot, and you truly had no idea…"

"Mathias shall pay dearly for his crimes." Walter whispered, his voice falling eerily quiet. Joachim noticed the vampire's hand ball into a fist. Yet, the smile upon the red-haired lord's face remained intact. "Do not underestimate my power. There is nothing I treasure more than the Ebony Stone."

"Say whatever you want." Joachim replied, flicking his hand at the vampire as if swatting away a fly. He could not resist reminding his former master of his own follies. "You are all talk, Walter. How does it feel to be Mathias' _puppet_?"

"It will not last. Nothing ever does. Once I am free, this castle will again be mine. Regretfully, there will not be a place for you here when that time comes."

"_If_ that time comes." Joachim corrected, calmly shaking his head.

"You are in no position to boast." Walter snapped, his smirk abruptly vanishing. "Do not forget you acquired Eternal Night by happenstance. Had it not been for that accursed knight, you would still dwell within the waterways among the rats…_where you belong_."

"But that did not come to pass, and everything you once had is now lost to you. It is a small price to pay for what you did."

A low chuckle vibrated from the demon's throat. Walter tossed his head, surveying the youth with growing interest. The candlelight cast an eerie glow across the flawless features of his face. The former lord took moved forward, his predatory-like steps making not a sound. With a proud huff, he answered enigmatically.

"A mere _inconvenience_. Nothing that shall not be remedied eventually. Nevertheless, I am certain you will slip into your old ways once again. Your hunger grows more uncontrollable each night."

Joachim scowled at the other vampire, unwilling to be baited so easily. He rested his chin in his hand, already growing bored of their endless quibbles. "I will not succumb to my darkness if I slumber. It is a fate I have chosen for myself. As long as I rest, this castle will never be yours."

The red-haired vampire slowly shook his head. "It will take much more than that to quell my power. Your dreams shall one day turn into nightmares, and sleep will no longer sustain you. Mathias does not yet know that tremendous power is bound to you; power that you inherited when Eternal Night was passed unto you during my absence. However, in time, Mathias will realize Eternal Night rose again."

Joachim gave the other vampire a thoughtful look. Once he slumbered, he would no longer be in control of his fate. His protection hinged solely on Leon's vow to hunt the night. As long as the Belmont name survived, and Leon's future heirs left him undisturbed, Mathias could not destroy him and gain full control over Eternal Night. However, Walter was no fool, and he feared his former master would find a way to free himself from Mathias' control prematurely.

Joachim crossed his legs, feeling the tension in his hands release. His voice held its calm. "Perhaps, but I will not be awakened so easily. Do you truly think I would want to be like you – sitting on a dust-caked throne, my only visitors nothing more than mere playthings? Without those games, your existence was meaningless…a life of solitude is no life at all."

"Tis' a pity you do not realize the irony within your own words." Walter whispered, his dark optics flickering when the youth's eyes widened slightly in response. "You only witnessed a fraction of what I accomplished during my existence. Eternal Night is, and always shall be, mine. Your desire for flesh and blood would have overcome you again, in time. You would have lured innocents into this domain and consumed them as I once did. Even now, you are tempted to drain that young man of his life-"

"Leon is, regrettably, my only salvation from this fate – and from you."

Joachim deliberately rested his hands upon the arms of the chair once again, prepared to affirm that the castle's ownership was entitled to him alone. The mere suggestion that he would harm the crusader enraged him. He would have sooner destroyed himself than willingly take Leon's life. But Walter knew his demeanor was unpredictable, for the fear and desperation in his eyes betrayed his attempt to dismiss his former paramour entirely. He could not deny that Leon's presence was as wanted as it was necessary.

As if capable of seeing into his thoughts, the red-haired demon's lips formed a coy grin. "I see. It seems you and that knight have become rather…_close_. Your disdain for humans has not kept you from keeping him in your company. Interesting…"

Joachim knew that look all too well. "Don't mock me, Walter. Leon and I share the same interests – for the time being."

"I am certain you do." The red-haired lord's dark spheres glinted.

Unwilling to discuss the topic further, the white-haired vampire scowled disapprovingly. Even if he did not explain his intentions fully, the vampire lord had a way of decoding him.

"How were you able to return here? I thought your soul was trapped within the Crimson Stone…"

A low, barely audible chuckle escaped the demon's lips. Joachim's stance stiffened when Walter's opaque eyes clashed against his pale blue. With a coy grin, the former lord tossed his head, his right eye partially veiled behind the luscious coils of his crimson hair.

"Even now, you fail to realize that my power over you is far greater than you can ever imagine."

"I-I do not understand-"

"It seems you have become quite forgetful. You have only confirmed the inevitable truth."

The youth's eyes widened. "I will not allow you to deceive me again!"

"Deceive you?"

The other vampire echoed. Without warning, the red-haired demon's voice rose into a loud, menacing laugh. With careful, slow steps, Walter's tall, armored form ascended the steps to the throne. Before the pale youth could even begin to absorb what was happening, a cold hand seized his chin and lifted his head. As if to swallow him, Walter's ebony colored eyes bore into his. In that moment, Joachim felt strangely vulnerable – for not even his thoughts seemed to belong to him alone when Walter looked at him. He felt the other vampire's velvety lips graze his own, while his former lord's rich, sonorous voice whispered in his ear.

"You deceive yourself, Joachim…"

Unable to bear the sight of his tormentor any longer, the young man recoiled in horror. He cast his eyes to the floor, his mind reeling as he tried to recollect the broken memories inside his mind. After some time had passed, the memory of Walter's final words to him intruded into his thoughts:

_None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe that they will be free…_

Soft stands of ashen hair fell around his colorless face. A strange calm settled over him as his eyes scanned the empty room.

He was alone.

His lips curved into an amused grin. Suddenly, a loud, boisterous chuckle vibrated in his throat, as if something terribly amusing had just entered his mind. Slowly, he lifted his head, while his chuckles escalated into a loud, crying laugh. He threw his head back and felt his entire body tremble. The sound of his voice reverberated through the throne room's vast emptiness.

In the sky, like a lone spectator, the moon silently looked on.

* * *

The sun was just beginning to rise; the sky was painted brilliant colors of red, blue and gold. The knight could just see the sun's fiery sphere hovering over the horizon. When he grew tired of trying to keep his mind occupied, Leon spent the night resting upon a window ledge in the cathedral wing. He missed days when he and Sara used to walk together on the grounds of her father's estate. More than anything, he longed to feel her next to him.

As light began to ascend over the castle, Leon scrambled to his feet when the sound of faint, anguished screams drifted through the lonely hallways of the castle. He grabbed the vampire killer whip, clutching the object in his fist whilst he raced toward the source of the sound. The golden strands of his hair waved recklessly around his face; his serene blue eyes widening in alarm. A thin outline of his shadow bolted alongside him on the corridor's wall. The long red-trimmed tails of his surcoat flagged behind him as he went. He wondered if someone had wandered into the castle and thought it deserted, only to encounter one of the many perilous traps within. He could not recall the existence of any traps in the area.

Leon hurried through the dusty rooms of the mortuary, searching in vain for the frightened person. The knight sprinted as fast as he could into the mortuary's burial rooms; knowing it was a place Joachim frequented, fearing the possibility a man was about to meet his end at the vampire's brutal hunger. However, the moment he entered the large open room, the voice he heard was unmistakably familiar. Leon skidded to a halt in the middle of the room, listening to the anguished screams reverberate through the deserted space. There were only two other adjoining rooms – one on the opposite end that led to a hallway, and the other…

The knight bolted past the rows of tombs toward a door at the back of the room. Joachim's voice sounded from within, his cries of anger and sorrow filling his ears when he stopped in front of the door. Large, red bars prevented him from entering the room.

"Joachim, it is I, Leon!"

To his dismay, the vampire continued screaming and howling within the room as if unaware of the knight's presence on the other side of the door.

"Are you trapped?" He called once again, but louder, in hopes the nobleman would at last hear him and cease yelling. "I'm going to get you out of there, but you must calm down! The mechanism controlling the lock must have triggered when you entered."

Despite his attempts, the vampire's panic seemed to increase with his arrival. He tried to decipher what Joachim was saying, but his ranting and raving made his words unintelligible. With lightning speed, Leon dashed toward the statues in the room and struck one with the whip. The statues had somehow reset themselves; locking the door to one of the castle's many hidden rooms. Fortunately, he had memorized the pattern well during his first venture through the castle. After striking each statue into their proper order with the whip, the red bars securing the door abruptly retracted.

"I have unlocked the door now," the knight called, walking toward the unbarred door. "You are free, Joachim. The door will open without any trouble."

Leon froze upon hearing the vampire's screaming continue. He could not understand what the problem was, for the door was unlocked, and the creature could leave by his own will. Yet, the anguished cries of fear and terror refused to acknowledge his efforts. Thinking perhaps that the vampire did not hear him, the knight stopped in front of the door and called once again.

"The door is unlocked and you can leave! Everything is fine; you aren't trapped in there, so there is no need to worry."

He waited outside the door for a few minutes, shuddering from the sound of Joachim's anguished screaming, until realizing the vampire was not going to leave on his own. Leon placed a hand against the door and pushed it open. The door swung back without protest, admitting him into the small room beyond. The knight's mouth almost fell agape the moment he entered.

Joachim was pacing rapidly back and forth across the room; his hands grasping his hair as if to tear it out. Terror appeared in his pale blue eyes, whilst he walked about the room, his screams giving way to cries of fear and pain. Upon stepping inside, Leon quickly noticed deep claw marks covering the back of the door. Joachim's once long fingernails were broken into jagged stubs, and the skin on the tips of his fingers were raw and bloody. When the vampire grasped his hair, red streaks stained its pearly white strands. The knight was so taken aback by the sight that, initially, he was too stunned to move. After thinking a moment, he took a few cautious steps toward the hysterical nobleman, lifting a hand in a hopeless attempt to reach through his terror.

"Joachim, what is wrong? Why are you behaving like this? If you follow me, you can leave-"

To his dismay, Joachim whirled to look at him, his face a mask of dread and sorrow. His voice, once cold and indifferent, resonated with confused apprehension. The vampire's pale blue eyes focused upon the knight with an intensity Leon had never seen before.

"No! I can't be left in here, alone, to die! What did I do to deserve this? I would rather die than be locked away again! Has Walter returned to claim this castle as his?"

"Joachim, stop! You aren't imprisoned anymore, the door is open, and you can leave! I will show you-"

Joachim gnashed his teeth, bearing his fangs like a wild animal, his eyes burning with fury and hatred. Tears rolled down his cheeks. Leon did not know vampires were capable of crying until the crystal droplets dripped off the young nobleman's chin. Joachim's pale visage was such a ghostly shade of white that he looked indescribably less human than Leon remembered. With a bitter snarl, the white-haired youth screeched, unable or unwilling to hear him.

"Please, don't leave me here again, don't leave me, please, don't…don't leave me…"

Leon sighed and stepped forward. Desperate to calm him, his voice softened, whilst his cerulean spheres gazed upon him pleadingly. "You are not in that place anymore. You are here, with me, and free to go wherever you please. You are not Walter's prisoner; you are his successor. I swear to you, no one will make you go back to that place ever again."

He did not know why, but he wished for nothing more than to console him. Joachim's sorrow ridden face expressed such hopeless misery that, despite seeing countless prisoners during his company's campaigns in the east, the creature's suffering was unlike that of a normal man. Indeed, the brokenness within Joachim's eyes was so profound; Leon could feel the vampire's suffering as if were his own.

Joachim shook his head, backing away, his wild eyes focusing upon the knight in growing antipathy. Rage seemed to fill every fiber of the creature's being; a desperate, mad desire to escape from the prison of his own mind. His voice became faint, whilst his hands began to tremble, professing unimaginable torments Leon did not understand, but still felt in his heart. Grief filled the knight as he listened to the young nobleman's lament.

"These walls are closing in all around me; I can't get out, I can't leave, I tried everything…the door won't open! In this place, this dark, sodden, rat-infested dungeon, I am forgotten by all who knew me. Sometimes, I remember little things, but I know I am different, now…"

"What are you talking about?" Leon whispered, his head lowering. "Please listen to me, you are not in that place! I'll show you, if you would just-"

"No!" Joachim interrupted, throwing up a hand. "You probably think I wanted to be a…a…bloodsucking _freak_! What do you know about me, human, except what I choose to tell you? You can enjoy all the pleasures of this world without care! I…can't…live among people like a man. No, I can't-"

"I thought Eternal Night was what you-"

"No!" The creature hissed, his hands balling into fists. "I want Walter. I want his goddamn heart ripped out of his chest! I want him to suffer as he made me suffer! Killing me would have been merciful, but oh, he would not grant me that privilege. Dying would have taken away his power over me, so he cast me into the depths of hell, to live forever in the waterways _beneath_ him, yet also, so that I would never forget my defeat. I know, that bastard wanted to break my spirit so I could not challenge him again because if I did -"

Leon could not think of how to respond, except that it was essential to bring the vampire's thoughts back to the present. Not even he could dismiss the importance of the past or forget its sorrows; Sara's death always reminded him of the pledge he made the night he defeated death. It seemed hypocritical to tell Joachim not to focus on that, which he, could not yet leave behind.

Leon's voice softened. "If you fall into despair and bloodlust, you will fulfill Walter's desire to ruin you-"

The vampire covered his face with his hands, hunching over whilst his voice rang through the room. "You came here to kill me, didn't you?"

"I don't understand what you-"

"Of course you do!" Joachim chided, casting the knight a reproachful glare while his hands fell away from his face. His pale form straightened, and he lifted his head, drawing back his lips to reveal his incisors. "You, like all other humans, despise me!"

Leon shook his head, sighing under his breath. "That isn't true. I believe there is good in you, if only you would see it as I do. I did not come here to hurt you-"

"Allow me to give you a reason to, then!"

Leon's stance tensed. Instinctively, he thought to defend himself with the vampire killer whip, but doing so could have lethal consequences. The whip was designed to slay vampires, not stun them. Unlike their last battle, before his whip was complete, if he used the vampire killer there was no telling if Joachim would survive. Even a single blow from the weapon was capable of fatally wounding the weakened vampire. He remembered, daytime was when vampires were most vulnerable. Fortunately, Joachim did not have the telekinetic strength during the day to command his swords to accompany him – for now. The knight cinched the coiled whip to his waist belt. Within seconds of putting the weapon away, Joachim was upon him. Pain blinded Leon's vision when Joachim struck him across the face with the back of his hand. Despite the vampire's daylight frailty, he was still strong enough to knock him to the ground. Leon landed on his side, feeling his head collide against the stone floor before needles of pain ripped through his skull. Leon was far stronger than the vampire during the daytime, but the thread of dusk approaching gave him little time to overpower Joachim before his powers returned.

Leon covered his face with his enchanted gauntlet just in time to block the vampire's jagged claws from slashing his face apart. The vampire plunged toward him, gnashing his incisors, while trying to clamp his strong jaws around the knight's throat. Thinking quickly, Leon rolled out of the way and scrambled to his feet. He did not want to use the whip and begged that he would not have to. Joachim, though fast, was tired when the sun was out. He considered using some of his relics or holy weapons against the frenzied immortal, but feared even his sub weapons were capable of fatally injuring the nobleman. Leon darted out of the way when Joachim lunged at him again.

After narrowly avoiding the vampire's slashing claws, he remembered the vampire killer was not his only weapon. He backed away toward the wall, whilst Joachim closed in on him, trying to trap the young man in a corner barred on one side by wrought iron gates. The vampire plunged on top of the knight, knocked him back, and pinned him against the wall. However, Leon had the advantage of physical strength, and shoved the creature back with all his might. Joachim staggered back, retaining his balance and hissing furiously. Trapped against the wall, Leon reached for another whip secured beside the vampire killer and withdrew it. The moment the creature sighted the weapon, a vicious roar vibrated from his throat as he charged forth to knock him down again. Leon drew his arm back and struck Joachim across the chest with the whip, the weapon hitting the vampire's chest armor with an earsplitting crack. Currents of electricity shot from the weapon and hit the pale nobleman. Within seconds, the vampire crumbled onto the floor.

The knight grimaced. "I didn't want to do that but you gave me no choice! Forgive me."

Leon kneeled beside the fallen nobleman, checking to assure himself that his wounds were not fatal. Since Joachim was weaker during the day, one hit was enough to immobilize him. Whilst the knight sat down on the floor beside him, he felt the nobleman's hand grasp his wrist. He nearly pulled away, but the vampire's touch was not forceful.

"Please," The white-haired nobleman breathed, his pale eyes met the knight's deep blue. "Don't…lock me away. The shadows...the cold, damp…loneliness…"

"I would never do such a thing," Leon whispered, feeling something inside his heart ache with sorrow as he looked into the fallen youth's eyes. "After dusk, you should be able to move again. You said you would sleep during the day. Why were you wandering about?"

All of a sudden, anger returned to the night dweller's eyes, and he snarling bitterly. "I don't have to answer to anyone. Let alone a _human_-"

Leon regretted asking, but the vampire's ingratitude astonished him. When Joachim looked away, deliberately ignoring him, he replied calmly. "Forgive my intrusion."

After pausing to regain his composure, he stumbled to his feet and looked the young man in the eye. Curtains of lush white hair fell around his smooth, flawless cheeks. Although weakened, he held a strange power over the former knight. Leon found himself unable to look away, and withdrew a breath when Joachim's lithe form moved slightly closer to him. Briefly, the harshness in the vampire's icy gaze relented.

"I am not always…myself." He whispered. As if suddenly aware of his own unpredictability, Joachim lowered his head, casting his eyes to the floor. "I thought if I could stay awake during the day, I might feel…_human_ again. The sunlight made me disoriented…for it is unnatural for vampires to remain awake during the daytime. When the door would not open, I…I…don't remember…"

"You need not say another word," Leon eased, giving the pale youth a sympathetic look. "You have endured more than I could ever understand."

"So have you." Joachim replied, daring to look up at the young man's surprised expression.

When their eyes met, a momentary silence fell between them. Memories filtered into his mind – images of Sara's smiling face. Sorrow filled him whenever he thought about her. Yet, he was glad she had not become a creature of the night. A part of him wanted to hate Leon for ending her life, even though he knew it was what she wanted.

A tiny smile crossed the creature's lips. "It seems you have rescued me yet again from imprisonment, Leon. I do not think I shall ever be able to repay my debt."

For the first time since their meeting, Leon laughed. He did not know why he found Joachim's comment so amusing, but the casual way in which the white-haired nobleman spoke seemed uncharacteristic of a creature that, minutes earlier, nearly killed him. He could tell the vampire was considerably weaker in the daytime, for Joachim's stance was unsteady, and his languid movements betrayed his assured guise.

Concerned that his strange companion might collapse, Leon took the pale youth by the arm. "You should rest."

Joachim did not object to the knight's insistence. The moment Leon touched him, he felt oddly at ease. Though he did not admit it, Leon's presence comforted him greatly. "I-I do not know why I entered this room." He stammered and rubbed his brow, his pale eyes narrowing. "Nevertheless, you bested me yet again, Belmont. You have become quite an effective slayer of my kind…"

Leon swallowed hard, wishing his unlikely ally had never broached the topic. He attempted to help the creature back to his tomb, but the white-haired demon tore his arm away.

With a reproachful look, the pale nobleman hissed under his breath. "I have endured far worse than this." he spat with a deliberate, yet somewhat unnerving, grin. "Don't flatter yourself by thinking your help would make any difference."

Leon shook his head and turned away, desperate to avoid the sight of the creature's piercing gaze. With a sigh, he walked toward the wall beside the door and pressed his back against it, sliding down it until he sat upon the floor. The tails of his surcoat fanned across the ground around him like the folded wings of a bird. His head lowered when he reflected upon his initial meeting with the young nobleman of the water prison.

"I suppose you are right," He admitted. "What good am I? I can't do anything to change your fate, just as I was unable to change Sara's. Even though I searched half of Europe, I still don't know where Mathias is. I am beginning to doubt I shall ever see him again." He wanted to stop there, but he no longer cared what the demon thought about him. One of his hands clenched into a fist. "I didn't even have the chance to tell Mathias how much I lamented his decision. I thought I could make him reconsider, but as always, I was too late. After everything he did, I want to believe…there is still good in him. I loved him like a brother, and in return, he left me at the mercy of death. Perhaps, when Elisabetha died, the Mathias I knew died with her."

To this, Joachim could not think of a worthy response. He slowly turned around. Stunned, he had not expected to see vulnerability in the young man's eyes. It shamed him to know he had selfishly thought he was the only one who still suffered.

"There was nothing you could have done to change his decision." He murmured.

Indeed, he wished he could have told the man otherwise, but his own encounters with the tactician confirmed that nothing would have changed his decision. He remembered the enigmatic and disconcerting manner in which the fallen knight had asked Walter for immortality. There was no question in his mind that Lord Cronqvist had not regretted it for an instant.

"Do not despair, for you have done more good than you realize, Leon. Had you and I met under different circumstances, I believe we could have been friends. I did not have many friends when I was human, however. I am not the same man I was long ago."

"Do you truly think so?" Leon looked up, unable to suppress a smile when he noticed the vampire's expression soften momentarily. "Perhaps, you haven't changed as much as you think."

"Time changes all things."

"You are still just as surly now as you were when we first met, so I am doubtful. Have you always been that way?"

Joachim huffed, amused and slightly annoyed by the young man's innate curiosity. "And you are just as curious as ever. Be careful, it nearly got you killed once."

"Thrice actually." Leon replied, chuckling under his breath.

The pale nobleman looked away, unwilling to reward the young man's humor with a response.

Leon rose to his feet and headed toward the door, ushering for his companion to follow. "Come, friend. You should not be awake during the daytime."

"I didn't say we were-"

"What?" Leon replied, trying not laugh when the vampire gave him a scathing look. "Forgive me then, for thinking the contrary."

Joachim smiled.

* * *

After much difficulty, Leon moved a sofa down the steps of one of the theatre's majestic rooms. Intersecting three grand staircases was a large platform with a hearth. Although the hearth had not been used in a long time, he was desperate to escape the chilling night air. The theatre's large rooms, though elegant and inviting, were extremely cold during the night. Old chairs stacked up against the walls served as ample firewood. Leon smashed apart several chairs with the vampire killer whip before drawing the whip of fire from his waist belt. Desperate for warmth, he cracked the tails of the whip against the makeshift wood inside the hearth; creating a small fire within it. The embers of the fire crackled, their soft light casting a warm glow across the knight's smooth visage. Exhausted, Leon collapsed onto the sofa; comforted by the firelight. He was so cold; all he wanted was to rest by the hearth. The sofa's soft, embroidered gold cushions helped ease his aching muscles. He removed his gloves and tossed them on the floor beside the sofa.

Within moments of sitting down, Leon glanced over his shoulder, sighting the pale vampire gliding down the carpeted steps like a prince. The creature's elegant robes floated behind him when he moved. The moment their eyes met, Joachim's calm voice broke the silence.

"Good evening." Before the former knight could reply, the young nobleman swept beside the sofa and offered him a glass. "Forgive me; I am not accustomed to eating and drinking, though I understand you must be in want of food. One of my servants shall be along in a moment."

Leon hesitated before taking the glass. He looked at the claret colored liquid, noting its sweet aroma before he placed it to his lips and took a sip. The wine was one of the finest he had ever had, for it was aged to the perfect degree, and its rich taste invigorated his senses.

"Thank you," he answered, unable to hide his gratitude. "I did not know you had servants, though I suspected you descended from nobility."

"Indeed, I did." Joachim seated himself on the other side of the sofa, ensuring a space remained between them. With a haughty scowl, he added. "Before you discovered me in that rat-infested cell, I ruled over my own lands and subjects."

"I see." Leon looked away, knowing all too well the vampire's implication. "Were you…ill as a human? I have always wondered that, for I have never met anyone with white hair."

"I inherited my father's condition." Joachim rested his other hand upon the arm of the sofa. His eyes gazed at the blazing hearth as a small, sad smile crossed his lips. "I envy you, Leon. You have accomplished a great deal that, when I was human, I could only dream of."

"War and death is hardly an accomplishment." Leon muttered, remembering the days spent in the cruel desert sun.

He had seen many good men fall on the battlefield; men with families, children, and wives. There were days when all he saw was blood and suffering. Always, the Church glorified its cause. Yet, the red-robed cardinals and stately bishops knew only the safe, beautiful confines of cathedrals and monasteries. Most did not consider the cost of war.

"War kept me from more important things. I did not realize that until it was too late."

Joachim continued to gaze into the fire. A short silence passed before he took a slow sip of wine and returned his attention to the human beside him.

"I was surprised when you asked to stay. Perhaps, sparing your life was not a waste after all."

Leon nearly dropped his wine glass. A flush of irritation swept across his face. "What do you mean? It was I who spared your life-"

"Think what you wish," The vampire interrupted. As if the man's anger was insignificant, he took another sip of wine, smiling in spite of himself. "Forgive me for wounding your pride, Leon."

Leon's irritation dissipated upon realizing that the vampire enjoyed baiting him. However, he could not overlook the possibility that resentment still surged beneath Joachim's calm exterior. The young man was about to speak, when a slight movement caught his eye, causing his hand to instinctively reach for the whip. He lifted his arm, about to swing the weapon at whatever approached, until Joachim suddenly held up a hand. Leon hesitated, his bright eyes widening when a skeleton carrying a silver tray lumbered toward the sofa on which they sat. The former knight blinked several times in disbelief when the monster offered him the tray. The sight of the corpse's glowing red eyes abruptly stifled his appetite.

Joachim silently nodded in approval; prompting Leon to take the tray. The skeleton made a clumsy bow, its bones clicking mechanically when it moved. The white-haired vampire waved the corpse away, his fine lips curling into a loathing scowl until it departed.

Leon examined the contents of the tray, which consisted of bread, cheese, and a piece of chicken. Although the food appeared normal, he dare not ask where it came from, fearing that if he knew, the prospect of eating it would suddenly seem less than appealing.

The white-haired nobleman, catching his hesitation, gave the crusader a wry smirk. "You needn't worry. I am certain it is _mostly_ edible and probably of higher quality than anything you are accustomed to eating."

"You have my gratitude." Leon eyed the vampire sharply and bowed his head, unable to hide the hint of sarcasm in his voice when he added. "At least I know what I am eating when I cook for my wife."

"You are married?" The vampire raised an eyebrow.

"Her name is Sonia." Leon replied, his voice softening when he spoke her name. "We were married less than a year ago."

The vampire huffed, returning the young man's tenderness with an icy glare. His voice, once calm, trembled slightly when he spoke.

"After suffering so great a loss, I am surprised…"

Joachim's hands shook, while the pale blue spheres of his eyes shone in the firelight. He focused upon the whip cinched above the crusader's thigh, his throat tightening when its dim purple aura flickered in response. He then returned his attention back to the hearth, barely composing himself when his mind pictured her beautiful, smiling face. Resentment shadowed his visage.

Sensing that anger brewed beneath the creature's somber façade, Leon looked away. "I will always love Sara. No one can replace her in my heart. However, I will not compare my feelings for her with Sonia, for I would dishonor both by doing so."

Joachim's gaze returned to Leon. The crusader's words stirred within him an enduring adoration for the man who had sacrificed so much for so little in return. He could see the sorrow in the young man's eyes when he spoke Sara's name. Grief would follow Leon for the remainder of his life, yet the knight seemed stronger because of it.

With a sad smile, Leon returned his gaze to the young nobleman. "My wife is expecting our first child in three months. Were it not for Sonia…I would have never known happiness again."

Joachim nodded silently. He could not think of a worthy response, for he did not wish to put asunder the young man's happiness. He could see joy appear in Leon's eyes the moment he mentioned his wife. Slowly, the pale vampire rose from the sofa and walked toward the fireplace. He lowered his head and rested his hand against the mantle while rubbing his brow with the other. Curtains of lush white hair fell around his face, veiling his expression from his companion's gaze.

"I…am happy for you." The nobleman replied. Even though his voice was monotone, he felt content to share Leon's delight. For too long, he had dwelled in his own misery.

"Do you have a family?"

Joachim hesitated. He had not expected the young man to ask. Without looking at the former knight, he slowly lifted his head. "A long time ago." He murmured.

Leon regretted asking. He could tell by the vampire's silence that the memories of his former life still haunted him. "I did not mean to-"

"Do not worry," the pale nobleman assured, feeling a weak smile play upon his lips. He lifted his head and turned around, his sleek form partially silhouetted by the firelight. Calm settled over him for the first time since their meeting. "Have you thought of a name for your child?"

The vampire's question stunned Leon, for he did not expect the creature to take an interest in his affairs. With a gentle smile, Leon pictured Sonia's smiling face – remembering the many conversations they had together before they went to bed about what to name their child. The excitement he felt during those times was immeasurable. Although many infants tragically passed away before their first birthday, Leon banished all possibility of losing his child. Giving the child a name seemed to confirm the permanence of its existence in the world.

"If the child is a boy, his name will be Michael." Leon replied. The name 'Michael' held no personal significance in his or Sonia's family. They were simply fond of the name.

"If the child is a girl?" The vampire asked. A strange tension hung in the air after he spoke.

Leon hesitated. Uncertainty filled him when he considered how the night dweller would react to his answer. He looked the creature in the eye, immobilized by the gentleness in the vampire's gaze. "If I am blessed with a daughter, her name will be Sara."

The vampire nodded and said nothing.

After much deliberation, the decision to name the child after Sara was something both Leon and Sonia had agreed upon. In a way, naming a daughter after his beloved kept her memory alive. Even though he carried the vampire killer whip – and her soul – with him, he wanted to remember the joy she brought into his life.

Years had passed since their last meeting, and he knew little about the vampire's life in Eternal Night. Leon found himself not wanting to simply know Joachim, but to _understand_ him. He had seen the barest trace of a smile appear upon the pale nobleman's face when he gave his answer. Even though the temptation burned within him, he would never ask what transpired between the vampire and Sara before his arrival. The vampire's confession was visible the moment he heard Sara's name, for his detachment was briefly replaced by inexplicable longing. However, questions still surfaced in his mind whenever he thought about the white-haired vampire's presence in Eternal Night.

After hesitating a moment, Leon resolved to voice his concerns. "Why did Walter turn you? Surely, he had everything he could have wanted – this castle, immortality, and his endless games."

Joachim's hand tightened around the wine glass until it cracked. Although he did not shatter it, his trembling hand managed to set the glass on a nearby table. The vampire's pallid complexion seemed to lose all the color it possessed. His eyes narrowed, their crystal spheres flashing a brilliant shade of red. His voice fell to a whisper.

"Once, even Walter knew love. Perhaps, he desired to create a companion whom death could not take…but failed to realize that there is beauty in death. Death is necessary because it compels the living to treasure their time in this world."

Leon gave the white-haired demon an apologetic look and bowed his head. He began to wonder if Rinaldo's assertion about his tendency to ask too many questions was all too accurate. But he was not adept at hiding his inherently curious nature. He could not blame Joachim for his reluctance to speak of the red-haired devil that had claimed his humanity, freedom, and possibly much more. However, the white-haired vampire's illusiveness frustrated him.

As delicately as he could, the crusader remarked. "I often fail to understand you. There is much you have not explained to me."

"Such as?" The vampire returned the knight's observation with a skeptical look. He paused, wondering where the young man was taking their conversation, and secretly dreading it. In an effort to resist berating his confidant for his inquisitiveness, he took a sip of wine and chuckled dryly. "I have told you all you need to know. Just when I was beginning to tolerate – and I daresay enjoy – your company, you bore me with more questions. I should have expected as much-"

"Did you truly want to kill me when I met you last?"

Unwilling to allow the nobleman to evade answering him, Leon's eyes locked against his host's. The seriousness in his expression succeeded in startling the vampire into unexpected silence. When he was certain that he had the night dweller's attention, Leon shook his head, knowing he could no longer avoid asking the one question he most desired an answer to.

Joachim eyed Leon whilst a low, humorless chuckle vibrated from his throat. "Perhaps." He answered enigmatically.

Leon's question perplexed the pale nobleman, for not even he completely understood why he had refrained from attacking. The knight's unwavering honor both intrigued and disgusted him. Yet, he could not deny that the human's presence in the castle was a welcome one, despite his initial reservations. Though he hid it well, whenever his eyes fell upon Leon's smooth countenance, he remembered their first meeting in the waterways. At that time, his feelings were purely instinctive and bestial. The human had simply been flesh and blood – a means of obtaining gratification and nothing more. Now, in the firelight, Leon's gentle expression stirred within him an indescribable longing. Despite the pain of losing everything, Leon maintained his belief in the goodness of others. When Joachim fed from his former adversary, sealing the contract between them, he felt no resignation about binding himself to the Belmont name. Leon was the only person who would remember him and – quite possibly – lament him. Indeed, the former knight shared the vampire's pain and grief. Though they never spoke of it, he sensed in Leon a desire for companionship. In each other's presence, their grief and loneliness melted away.

Aware of the vampire's growing uncertainty, Leon shook his head. He did not understand why Joachim's opinion of him mattered so much. The vampire had tried to kill him several times, which should have inclined the crusader to destroy him outright. The arousal he felt when he allowed the demon to drink from him proved that impure thoughts had clouded his judgment. Leon grimaced, condemning the possibility that his feeling for the pale nobleman verged on something other than camaraderie.

Leon could not withhold his anger when Joachim refused to answer his question. For too long, the young nobleman of the water prison had dominated his thoughts.

"I don't believe you." He whispered, feeling his hands clench into fists as he slowly rose from the sofa. "You wanted me to return; that is why you followed me all those years. You knew I would come back. Why?"

Joachim gave the young man a scathing look, despising the fact that, no matter how much he wanted to hate him, his companion's concern and kindness made it impossible. The longer he looked at the former knight, the more he realized his growing attachment. More than anything he did not want to be alone.

"I could ask you the same question." The vampire retorted, his pale eyes focused steadily upon the former knight. "You did not have to return – yet here you stand. I asked you to kill me and you refused. Perhaps, it is _you_ who has much to tell, Leon."

Leon stepped back, his lips parting when his host's eyes met his. The former knight found himself at a loss the longer they stood, staring at each other, waiting for the other to break the silence that followed. He watched Joachim's delicate lips curl, whilst his icy eyes flickered, reflecting the dying embers of the fire in their gleaming spheres. The pale nobleman padded toward him, his sleek, graceful frame making not a sound when he moved. There was a sad dignity in Joachim's expression that fascinated him utterly. When the white-haired creature came within a few inches of Leon, he found himself unable to move. Very slowly, the vampire lifted his hand and cupped the knight's face.

A tiny, sad smile appeared upon Joachim's snow-white lips when he spoke.

"I…understand now, why Sara loved you so dearly. How I wish…you would see me as she did."

The vampire sighed, loathing how his ashen hand visibly contrasted Leon's warm flesh. He lowered his head, feeling a faintness overcome him. The feel of the young man's soft, supple skin beneath his fingertips provoked an aching hunger in his throat. Disgust ripped through him at the thought that he was capable of harming the man who had saved his life. He looked away, despising himself for being tempted so easily. With a heavy sigh, he continued darkly.

"I am growing weak again. Always, that accursed hunger returns to remind me of my inhumanity. I cannot remain in your company any longer, for I do not wish to cause you harm."

Seeing the pain in Joachim's eyes, Leon wished for nothing more than to comfort him. When the vampire attempted to lift his hand away, the young man gently seized him by the wrist. Tension ran through his body as he stood before him, aware of his own vulnerability, yet unwilling to let go. A cold chill ran through him the moment he touched his host's icy flesh. There was beauty in his white-haired companion's pale, porcelain-like skin. They had endured too much together to part so quickly. With a trembling sigh, he confessed.

"Years after our meeting, I still thought of you often. I trust you, even though you do not trust yourself."

Joachim's eyes widened and he gazed at the former knight for a long moment. Sensing the Leon's resolve was genuine, he initially wanted to scoff at his former adversary's naivety. "What do you mean?" He asked, eyeing the former knight as a growing uneasiness churned inside him.

"I know you are starving. What little blood I have given is not enough to sustain you."

"It will not make a difference a few hours from now." The vampire eyed him warily, his shining spheres focusing upon Leon's face with renewed sadness. A small smile played across his lips, and he chuckled under his breath. "Soon, I will sleep eternally."

Leon sighed. It pained him to hear the truth in the vampire's words. By dawn, his meeting with the pale nobleman would seem like a strange dream. "Yes, I know." He replied, feeling his throat tighten. "You will never see me again but I will remember you always."

"Why do you wish to remember a monster?" Unable to understand his companion's logic, the white-haired nobleman shook his head.

Leon swallowed hard, aware that whatever he said next could be his own undoing. He feared what would transpire if he confessed the painful truth. "It was you who saved _me_, Joachim."

"What do you mean?" Joachim raised an eyebrow, his icy eyes gleaming in the firelight. As if the young man had suddenly lost his mind, he nearly recoiled until the human stepped forward, narrowing the space between them.

"When I left Eternal Night nearly three years ago, I was determined to destroy all vampires. I believed the only way to stop others from suffering Sara's fate was to hunt the night. In my anger and sorrow, I didn't realize…nothing is ever that simple."

"Some things are." The white-haired nobleman sneered, his eyes glinting in the firelight with an eerie, predatory delight. "You saw my true nature when I was imprisoned. I am far from a saint. Very far indeed…"

"When you were human, I doubt you would have killed anyone." Leon replied, unwilling to concede to the vampire's self-loathing disposition.

His companions' frail, deathly pale appearance gave the impression that he never could have been capable of harming anyone. Joachim himself had confessed to being bedridden most of his life. However, when the night dweller's expression did not waver, the crusader fell into a stunned silence.

Joachim's eyes narrowed while his fine lips curved into a sardonic grin, revealing the needle-like tips of his fangs. His voice, once audible, died to a low whisper.

"You don't know what I was capable of – and still am. Try again, Belmont."

Leon hesitated when he realized that the look in his host's eyes was as serious and sincere as his own. A lump formed in his throat and he looked away, unable to accept the nobleman's view as final. It was true – he did not know Joachim when he was human. He remembered a time when he had underestimated the young nobleman of the waterways. Joachim's seemingly frail appearance veiled great power. Sorrow filled him when he thought about the pain and suffering his companion had endured during his confinement. After drawing a breath, Leon ran a hand through the locks of his sun-kissed hair. Tears welled in his eyes but he withheld them, for he had no right to cry before a man who carried heavier burdens than his own.

The former knight's voice shook when he forced himself to speak, the softness of his voice shattering the theater's unnerving silence.

"Had we not met, I may have followed Mathias' dark path. When Rinaldo told me that you…tried to save Sara, I mourned your passing and thought myself a murderer. A monster would never place the life of another above its own, but a human would. I am truly grateful."

The white-haired vampire abruptly pulled away and stepped back, his light blue eyes widening as he turned away. Even though he never told anyone, his grief was still raw. At the time, his decision to help Sara was not to unite her with her betrothed. He wanted to believe that she might not have left Eternal Night. But he had known that, despite her initial doubt, she loved the baron deeply.

With great effort, Joachim managed to force his lips into a weak smile and bowed his head. "I do not deserve your gratitude."

"Then take my blood." The crusader extended his hand. When he saw the vampire cast a wary glance over his shoulder, he continued boldly. "After all you have done, there is nothing I would not give for your sake."

"The church would never condone this." The pale nobleman remarked under his breath.

Even though his companion seemed more world-weary than the curious, honor-driven man he met in the waterways, time had not entirely eroded his faith and morality. The fact Leon was at ease in his presence seemed uncharacteristic of a man that, years ago, might have thought him a monster. They had grown much closer than either of them expected. However, the white-haired nobleman was determined not to tarnish his comrade's goodness. He studied the young man's features, silently admiring the crusader's modest beauty. Leon's eyes were as lucid as the clearest stream, and reflected only sincerity within them. Secretly, he wanted to reach out and feel the blonde's smooth, warm skin beneath his fingers. Tension swept through him when he realized that his ability to resist his companion's offer was quickly waning. He wanted Leon's blood as much as the crusader wanted him to take it.

"You are right."

Leon admitted, unable to ignore the legitimacy of his companion's concern. He had not expected the vampire to care about his faith, and wondered if Joachim had once been as naïve as he was. He would never forget the day he beseeched the cardinals for their permission to sortie with the demon who had abducted Sara. The image of their cold, indifferent faces was forever stained into his memory. Their blood-red robes, to him, symbolized the blood of innocents they cruelly condemned and left to die in the name of God. He had spilled the blood of countless people for their cause. The thought nearly made him cringe.

"Although my faith in God is unchanged, I am no longer associated with the church. God will judge me for my sins just the same."

The white-haired nobleman smiled weakly. "I suppose that is true. However, I wonder…" His voice trailed off. A brief silence overcame him as he stood before the young man, looking at him, his icy eyes shining in the dim light. The longer he stared at Leon's graceful features, the less he wanted to pull away. "Do you…care about me?" He asked, immediately despising his bluntness.

Leon's eyes widened and his mouth nearly fell agape in astonishment. After hesitating a moment, he withdrew a breath, knowing it was impossible for him to hide anything. The vampire's penetrating gaze seemed capable of seeing through him as if his thoughts were transparent. With a nervous chuckle, he answered.

"You are my friend and I care for your wellbeing."

"Is that all?" Joachim whispered, the intensity in his gaze never relenting for a moment when he added. "I shall not accepted your offer if it was made out of pity. I am not an abused animal in need of affection, Leon."

"That was not my intention-"

"Then what was your intention?"

Leon hesitated once again, unable to think of a proper response. Not even he knew why he felt drawn to a creature he should have loathed and destroyed. Even after losing his beloved, he could not bring himself to hate Joachim for being what he was. Hating him would have been too easy, for caring for him tested the very foundations of his morality. He could not define his feelings for the vampire even if he tried. Thus, with a small gesture of futility, the former knight shook his head.

"I don't know. Somehow, your presence…comforts me."

"Why?"

The vampire raised an eyebrow as a look of disbelief swept across his face. He could not fathom why the young man found him comforting, especially considering he had tried to kill him on more than one occasion.

Leon's voice fell quiet when a feeling of shame overcame him. What he felt was not right. Even though he left the church, he could not overlook the fact that what he said was inappropriate. His feelings for the vampire were platonic and nothing more. Although relations between men were not unheard of, such behavior was often punishable by death – and worse – damnation.

Leon remembered the excitement he felt when the vampire's cold lips touched his flesh and tried to block it from his mind. "This should not be. Please, think no more on what I said."

Joachim's lips curved into a slight frown. He knew what the knight was trying to say but honor – and the salvation of his soul – denied it. Although the crusader's unyielding sense of duty irritated him, he would not blame him for it. His own soul was damned and ruining Leon's chance for redemption was too great a burden to bear. A twinge of injury appeared in his eyes the longer he contemplated the precarious situation he had placed the young man in. Nevertheless, some part of him detected that the former knight was still indecisive.

Unable to endure his companion's regret, Leon felt some obligation to explain himself. Perhaps, in doing so, he hoped the logic in his words would convince _himself_ that it was necessary. A trembling sigh escaped his lips before he forced himself to speak.

"I did not mean to mislead you, Joachim. However, you must understand…"

"Indeed, I do." Joachim tried to smile but it was a wasted effort. "Your loyalty to God is understandable."

"Not God," Leon whispered. "My wife and unborn child."

To this, Joachim could not think of a worthy response. Although he felt inexplicably drawn to the crusader, the thought of compromising everything the man cared for was against even his own principles. Secretly, the pale nobleman envied the woman who had captured his companion's heart so completely. Even the mere mention of his wife made Leon's voice acquire a gentleness that characterized his devotion. He watched the blonde bowed his head, the strands of his layered locks falling gracefully around his smooth face. Joachim observed the young man's humble gesture, his pale eyes never leaving his guest for an instant.

With a silent nod, the white-haired vampire conceded. "You are man of honor, Leon. Forgive my…transgression…"

Sadness consumed his gaze, even though he was unsurprised by the young man's answer. He did not fully comprehend why Leon's rejection hurt him so much. Years ago, he would have killed the human without batting an eyelid. Ironically, he found himself unable to relinquish his need for Leon's presence. Although he did not reveal it, he was growing ever more frightened by the fact that dawn was drawing nearer. He longed for Leon to be by his side; to be held and comforted by him during his final hours. Even if the former knight did not reciprocate, he was content to remain with him until fate compelled them to part ways.

The look of dejection on his pale companion's face made Leon's heart ache with guilt. He wondered if he had been cruel the vampire, for Joachim had willingly sacrificed a life of immortality for his sake. He tried to speak but the words refused to leave his lips. Within moments, he began to wonder if he had asked too much of the night dweller. Even though Joachim respected his wishes, Leon knew the vampire desperately longed for more.

"You are…important to me, Joachim."

Leon said at last, despising how simple he sounded. Words alone could not adequately describe human emotion. In an effort to comfort his crestfallen companion, he then added quietly.

"I do not regret returning to Eternal Night – to you. I thought the past would only remind me of my regrets but our reunion has proven the contrary. Yet, I feel I have again committed an injustice upon you. If circumstances in my life were different, perhaps…I would…"

He swallowed hard and looked away, unable to continue even though his heart compelled him to. He could feel the vampire studying him carefully but did not want to look into his host's sharp, pale blue eyes. He feared if he did, his resoluteness would wane all too quickly. Despite his reservations, he stepped closer to the young nobleman. He did not want the night dweller to feel betrayed by his restraint. Betraying Joachim pained him as much as betraying his beloved, even though the sanctity of marriage should have been enough to make him abstain. He wanted the vampire to know that a part of him truly desired to return his companion's devotion.

"Will you stay with me until sunrise?" The vampire asked tentatively, noticing the human was avoiding eye contact. He was aware that his intense nature often caused others discomfort and sought to remedy the situation. With a dry chuckle, he added. "Even though I descend from nobility, my manners have always been a bit lacking. If you feel the need to retire, I shall make no quarrel of it."

"No, I am quite all right. Thank you."

Leon waited until the creature nodded in acknowledgement. It was very late, and even though he was tired, he would keep himself awake. Tension filled him when he remembered the offer he had made the immortal. The creature's ambiguous answer inclined him to believe that the vampire was not as satiated as he appeared. He wondered if God would punish him for what he was about to do. With as much courage as he could muster, Leon lifted his head and looked at the vampire's regal countenance. Even though he tried to deny it, there was still a part of himself that he wanted to give Joachim, and remembered Rinaldo's words: _There is no bond more powerful than blood_. He would never forget the feel of the vampire's cold lips upon his flesh, or the unadulterated pleasure his companion was able to extract from his mortal flesh. No matter how valiantly he tried to convince himself that the exhilaration he felt during the act was sinful, he could no longer deny it. Amidst the overwhelming shame it wrought within him, the passion he experienced temporarily subdued his fear of moral debauchery.

After reflecting upon the implications of his decision, Leon's voice fell to a whisper.

"I stand by my offer, Joachim. Do as you will."

The vampire's eyes widened at the suddenness of the crusader's proposal. When Leon did not move away, he realized the human meant every word. He was uncertain of what he would do to the young man if he agreed. Although he yearned to touch the stunning beauty before him, he feared disrespecting him if he succumbed to the temptation to take far more than the knight allotted. The pale nobleman grimaced at the thought and remembered a time when someone he cared for had made a similar offer…

"Are you certain?" The night dweller asked once again, suddenly feeling helpless to resist even though his conscience tried to pull him away.

"I have never been more." The crusader answered unfalteringly. The young man's lips lifted into a gentle smile. His eyes glinted like sapphires in the firelight, which half-shadowed his face.

Very slowly, he pulled Leon closer to him while one of his hands grasped the collar of his shirt. His index finger brushed across the sloping curve of the knight's neck, gently tearing away the silky black fabric encasing it to expose the smooth, sloping curve of his shoulder. His other hand slipped around the small of Leon's back, pulling him into an embrace. He pressed his lips upon the base of his neck, kissing the supple flesh, while silently admiring the young man's beauty. Ravenous hunger filled him when his lips trailed across the tender flesh of Leon's shoulder - still dangerously close to his neck. He could feel the crusader's gentle pulse thumping beneath the thin layer of skin covering his throat. Unwilling to give in to the urge, his lips settled upon the space of flesh between the young man's neck and shoulder.

He heard Leon gasp in surprise, his bright blue eyes widening at the intimacy of the vampire's touch. Joachim hesitated, wondering if the crusader would resist him. When Leon fell still once again, his cold lips tenderly kissed the flesh, admiring the smooth, fair skin. He drew his lips back, revealing his deadly needle-like fangs. If he lost control for even a moment, he was capable of killing the young man almost instantly. He kept his eyes averted from Leon's neck, focusing his attention upon the supple skin before him, knowing if he was careful, he would cause his companion minimal pain.

When the vampire's fangs slowly pierced the flesh of his shoulder, Leon's stance stiffened. A gasp fled the young man's lips when a sharp pain shot through his body. He clenched his teeth, trying to resist the pain as the pale creature fed. Streams of blood flowed from the open wound, trickling across the red-trimmed lapels of his surcoat. The night dweller pulled the young man closer, securing him in his arms almost possessively. When he felt the mortal's legs begin to give away, he gently lowered his frail companion upon the embroidered sofa.

Leon's breathing quickened when he felt the vampire's lithesome figure press against him. His hands grasped the sofa's satin cushions as he fought against the instinct to free himself from the vampire's hold. Everything inside him screamed that his passiveness was enough to damn him in the eyes of God. Never had he been so physically close to another man, yet it did not repulse him as much as he initially expected. When Joachim's left hand cupped his face, the creature's startlingly cold, sallow sent shudders of delight through him. In that moment, all rational thought seemed to give way to unadulterated pleasure. Even though pain surged from the wound in his shoulder, his white-haired companion's gentleness made it bearable.

As the crusader's sweet, crimson essence slid down Joachim's throat, his fingers lightly caressed the man's cheek. He was so close to Leon that he could hear the human's heart pounding in his ear. When he inhaled, his nostrils captured the young man's musky scent. He could feel the former knight beginning to weaken. Leon's eyes slowly flutter closed and the tension in his muscles released. With a low, breathless moan, the blonde attempted to sit up on the sofa; desperate to regain his fleeting strength.

In an effort to calm him, the white-haired nobleman wrapped his arms around his limp companion, securing him in a gentle embrace. Knowing the young man was reaching his limit, Joachim slowly withdrew his fangs; his blood-drenched lips skimming the surface of the wound. Blood trickled from the corners of his mouth as his pale eyes focused upon Leon's face. He could not deny that the blond fascinated him utterly. The longer he gazed at the young man's smooth, flawless contours, the greater his heart ached for the crusader's affection. Not even the ravenous hunger inside him could match his yearning for Leon's touch. The vulnerability he felt in the human's presence was unlike anything he had felt in years. Unable to resist the temptation, his lips covered the young man with tender kisses.

The sudden gesture prompted the crusader's eyes to open. Even though his mind screamed for him to get up, his body was too weak to move. A stream of blood seeped from the open wound in his shoulder. His vision blurred as a feeling of dizziness overcame his senses. The total loss of control he experienced in the vampire's presence made his entire body tremble. He could feel the nobleman's kisses become more fervent and desirous, the mere touch of his lips resembling the light, cold touch of snow upon his flesh. Another moan fled his lips when he felt the white-haired nobleman's hand softly caress his cheek. He felt the vampire's other hand slip down his chest to the inside of his thigh. Leon looked away, his throat tightening when his eyes traced the subtle protrusion between his legs, ashamed of how easily his own body betrayed him. What ashamed him even more was the fact that he had not fought harder against the creature's advances. Explosions of pleasure ripped through him when he felt Joachim's hand gently massage his swollen organ. The thin veil of his britches failed to dissuade his white-haired companion's arousing touch.

Leon fell back, resting his head against the sofa's silk armrest. His will to remain conscious was slowly dissolving into delirious exhaustion. He felt his eyelids grow heavy as the urge to sleep raged against his restless thoughts. His euphoria faded into contentment as he felt himself relax, comforted by Joachim's embrace. It did not occur to him how much blood he had lost until he realized his effort to stay awake was in vain. With a sigh, he reached up and brushed his hand across the vampire's smooth cheek, his cerulean eyes reflecting the fire's dancing embers. The crusader's lips lifted into a small, sad smile. Although he longed for Joachim to stay by his side, the pain resonating beneath the white-haired vampire's calm expression almost broke his calm.

Joachim held the human, wishing for a time when he would never have to let go, and tortured by the impossibility of his desire. He did not know what to say, for words seemed useless and incapable of expressing his intentions clearly. With a sigh, he tried to smile, and whispered in the young man's ear.

"For a moment, you made me remember what it felt like to be human. Why must it always be so fleeting?" He chuckled, fearing the morbidity of his comment would distress the crusader's resolve. However, his own feelings were quite the contrary. Nostalgia replaced his characteristically austere disposition. "For years I have felt detached from the world; pretending to be someone I am not. In your company, I can be myself…the deadness inside me disappears, and I feel _alive_ once again."

Leon only smiled in return, unable to veil the sadness behind it. He realized the loss of control he felt in the vampire's presence had affected him profoundly. Joachim's intensity renewed his determination to not only to hunt the night but also to _live_. Even if he never saw Mathias again, he was content with the path he had chosen. He would carry Joachim's memory with him, knowing that as long as the Belmont clan remained, the vampire would rest in peace. Leon listened as Joachim hummed a soft, sad song under his breath.

With the image of the vampire's face still etched in his mind, he drifted to sleep.

* * *

With a small, sad smile, Joachim forced his weakened body to sit up and swung his legs over the side of the tomb. Taking slow steps, he walked toward the door of the throne room, his once swift and agile form rapidly deteriorating alongside the night's retreat. Every step he took sent sharp jolts of pain through his body, though he ignored it – remembering a time when, as a human, he had been accustomed to it. In that moment, he welcomed the pain, and chuckled in spite of himself. He placed his palms against the door's solid stone surface and withdrew a breath. Were he alive, his heart would have begun to race when he pushed the heavy door open and allowed his eyes to look upon the sun. Very faintly in the distance, the sun's rays bathed the clouds in a sea of gold. His lips parted, and he stood just beyond the threshold of the door, mesmerized by the startling beauty of the dawn. A soft, sad smile crossed his lips as he silently memorized the dreamlike image of the sun's golden sphere rising into the sky.

An intense burning sensation prickled through his body. He could feel his skin beginning to sear and peel but did not flinch. He extended his hand, reaching out to the sun as if to take it, while seeing his fingers slowly begin to burn. Every passing moment, his once flawless cheeks began to flake away into ash.

With a bittersweet sigh, he slunk into the safety of the shadows and retreated to the cold, stone tomb waiting in the middle of the empty throne room. Light streamed across the dark marble floor through the numerous windows lining the room. With the last of his strength, he climbed into the tomb and lifted its heavy lid off the floor. As he moved the lid back into place, and felt darkness enclosing around him once again, his eyes fluttered shut.

He pictured a woman's beautiful, smiling face. Bright emerald eyes filtered through his thoughts. Her warm hand took his; leading him out of the darkness.

In his dreams, he would he see her again.

"_Good night, my love…_"

**End**

* * *

**End notes:**

**Why Sonia?**

It's clear the Belmont line had to continue somehow, which means Leon most likely married someone else after Sara's death. I didn't want to introduce a new character in the final chapter but wanted to resolve the sub-plot with Leon and explain what might have possibly happened to him after the events of LoI. Since Sonia was originally intended to be the 'first' Belmont, I thought it would be interesting if I could bring her back into the Castlevania universe. I don't think Konami needed to completely erase Sonia's story from the Belmont timeline. Sonia's storyline could have easily been re-written so that Leon eventually met and married her (nixing the sorely underdeveloped and problematic "Alucard relationship" completely), thus giving Sonia the last name of 'Belmont' while continuing the family line. Although other authors have had Leon marry an original character out of desperation to continue the Belmont line, I think he's much too honorable to enter into an unloving relationship solely for that reason. I hope Sonia's addition to the story and relationship with Leon did not seem rushed and tried to develop Sonia's character so it would seem plausible.

**Joachim's ending:**

I wasn't sure how to end the story, and after a lot of thought, I felt the ending I finally came up with was the most believable, given the direction the story was going. I tried to write as much detail as possible but if you feel something needs to be added or changed, feel free to PM me.

Side note: the scene I wrote (Joachim laughing in the throne room) was meant to tie in with Joachim's ending in LoI (in which he sits on Walter's throne and starts laughing before the clip ends). This story attempts to interconnect Leon AND Joachim's endings in LoI. I haven't read a fic portraying what could have happened if Joachim actually ruled Eternal Night in Walter's place. I thought both Leon's and Joachim's endings were possible, and since you can choose to play as Joachim after beating the game as Leon, it seemed fitting to tie them together.

**Why doesn't Mathias make an appearance?**

I am trying to follow LoI canon and at the end of LoI, it's pretty clear that Leon and Mathias never meet again. Below is a quote from LoI (what is stated at the end of the game):

"However, Mathias and the Belmonts will not meet again for hundreds of years. Mathias goes into hiding in foreign lands and continues to curse God for eternity."

**Final comments:**

It's been a long process but I promised I'd finish this story and I hope it was worth the wait. I would like to thank those who read and reviewed my work. Some of you don't have an account so I can't respond to your reviews, but I have read all of them and I always appreciate feedback! This took a lot longer than I originally intended to finish but I didn't want to post it until I was satisfied with what I wrote. In the future, I may go through previous chapters and try to fix spelling/grammatical errors. If you see any glaring errors that need to be changed in any of the chapters, send me a PM and I will try to get those fixed as soon as possible since it can be hard to go through every single chapter and find what needs to be fixed.

**Special thanks go to long time readers and beta readers:**

Lateniteslacker – I haven't heard from you in a long time but I hope you are doing well and enjoy this last chapter, should you have the chance to read it. If you think something needs to be changed/edited be sure to let me know Thank you for beta reading this story as well, since your comments helped me improve the quality of my work!

Artimus Lan – I apologize for the long delay between updates but I hope it was worth the wait! Your feedback is appreciated and helped motivate me to finally publish the last chapter. I had been working on this chapter for months and it ended up being over 70 pages!

Thomas - wow, you reviewed every single chapter! I'm very honored you took the time to do that and thank you very much for your comments!

AzariyaBernhard (heh, hope you like the Walter cameo I added just for you, even though Joachim was probably hallucinating lol)

TheGhostisReal

SirenaLoreley – I am honored you came back to review chapter 35, even though it had been a long, long time since I updated the story. Thank you for patiently following my work and reviewing after all this time!

danceofgold – I haven't heard from you in a long time but I hope you are doing well and thank you for all the reviews you left over the years. You are a talented writer and I hope to read more from you in the future, should you decide to write more CV fics.

haruharu – Although I don't have time to create an entirely separate LeonxJoachim fic, I hope you found this last addition satisfying and believable (lol it ended up being super long…over 70 pages to be exact). Thank you for taking the time to review my fic since it's taken years for me to finish it and I always look forward to reading your comments!

yaoixthundeh - thank you for reading and reviewing my work! Your comments were encouraging and I'm happy to know that you enjoyed reading my work.

Rahar Moonfire


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